# Coven of the Morbid



## Farseer Ulthris (Sep 6, 2008)

A hidden coven of Necromancers, The Coven of the Morbid exists in the area around the damned city of Mousillon. The Coven is formed of many Necromancers, on the run from the authorities of their native lands, from Bretonnia itself, the Empire, Kislev and even the Border princes. Some are simply apprentices, fearing for their lives as fanatics hunt them down or disatisfied with the 8 colleges of Altdorf. Led by Master Necromancer Orvani Diabolis, Puppet Master of the Rotted, the Coven has carried out its dark research for many years, until now. The authorities have been alerted to the existence of your coven and now you must use your dark knowledge to defend your coven. However there is another enemy, from within the group someone seeks the knoweledge of the Master Necromancer, for within his collection are copies of the books of Nagash. Only time will tell where your loyalties lie.

Ok, here is how your character is to be laid out:

Name: 

Gender:

Nationality: (Are you Bretonnian, Imperial, Kislevite, Estalian, Tilean, Gypsy or are you from a tribe or one of the Border Prince Kingdoms)

Age: (Due to their unholy practices, Necromancers are longer lived than other humans

Rank: (Master Necromancer or Necromancer)

(There can be only 2 Master Necromancers, its first come first serve. As well as 4 Necromancers)

Magical abilities: (As a Necromancer, you will be expected to be able to animate the dead, but Necromancy may vary from person to person. How do your teachings manifest themselves? Harnessing the dark arts has its price, you have to write how it effects you)

Magic Items: (Nothing too god-like, only to serve you in your morbid duties. You can have 1 magical staff, 1 forbidden tome and 1 magical accessory. )

Appearance: (Obviously it varies, you need to take into consideration how long you have practised necromancy and among your clothing is a flayed human skin to protect yourself from the harmful side-effects of dark magic.)

Personality: (The younger you are the less bonkers you'll be)

Background: (How did you fall upon the Necromancer's path, was it a lover's death, a desire for power, a longer life or perhaps vengeance?)

Here is my character.

Name: Orvani Diabolis

Gender: Male

Nationality: Gypsy

Age: 180

Rank: Master Necromancer

Magical abilities: A powerful Necromancer, Orvani has garnered much knowledge from the copied books of Nagash. Such is his power that he can raise entire battlefields, rip the souls of his opponents from their bodies and reanimate their corpses. He is capable of using the corpses of slain wizards to project his voice and spells as well as the common aspects of the Necromancer's art. However, the dark art has took its toll on Orvani's body, for his practices have rotted his skin to the muscle and as such relies on his power to survive and should he draw more magic than even he could harness, his soul could be torn from his body for short periods of time, long enough for a blade strike him down. In time his decay will become as such he will become a wraith, unless he finds a way for it to stop.

Magic items: The Zalvurin: A magic staff once used by the Seer of Orvani's caravan. After the massacre of his people, the Master Necromancer took his mentor's staff with an oath of vengeance. Such dark emotions have polluted the item, for it imprisons the souls of those who have fallen before Orvani's foul magic and he can draw more magic from them. 

The Black Trinity: The three copied books of Nagash are the Necromancer's most prized possession. By tapping into the blood written words on the paper, Orvani can draw upon spells that few Vampires and fewer Necromancer's know. But such power has a price, for each sentence uttered from the cursed pages draws more fragments of Orvani's soul into their tattered bindings.

The Torque de mort phylactery: Orvani would prefer being struck down by an opponents blade or spell, rather than the fate awaits him for his dark path. The artifact was created from the bones and crystalised heart of a vampire and was designed to bind the wearer's soul eternally. Most would go insane from imprisonment within such an artefact, but Orvani would favour this rather than imprisonment within the pages of the Black Trinity.

Appearance: Once a handsome man, Orvani is now completely revolting, his skin having long since rotted through his dark magics. Once every month, he sends his undead minions to bring him the most attractive adolescents from nearby Bretonnian villages and...uses them for his rotted body. His eyes remain a intriguingly beautiful brown and maintains a height of 6ft2, despite being hunched. His black robes are adorned with more flayed skins, the more to protect him from the necromantic arts.

Personality: Like most Necromancers, Orvani is insane, but still knows reason. He often holds a grudge and those who are at the recieving end will often recieve a fate best not contemplated. Among Orvani's flaws lies narcissism, seeing himself as the pinnacle of necromantic mastery and his rotted body deserving of the wretched peasant boys flesh. Despite his flaws, he is willing to take on students, if only to serve as an extension of his ego and often enjoys twisting their minds against each other so that they do not betray him, such is the fate of those who carry the knowledge of Nagash. However, among all his flaws, there is the lust for vengeance. Orvani has a pathological hatred of all members of the cult of Sigmar and has devoted much of his existence to capturing fanatics having his...wicked delights.

Background: Born to a Gypsy caravan outside the Empire capital of Altdorf, Orvani came in to the world on Geheimisnacht. As Morrslieb waxed in full, so did the Necromancer. At the age of 8, his magical abilities were revealed and was apprenticed to the caravan's Seeress, where he learned to harness magic and most of all...necromancy. The Seeress warned the boy that such dark arts should only be used when conventional magic fails for to use it as one wields a blade would lead to damnation. 10 years later, a famine afflicted the area the Gypsy caravan settled, the local fanatics blamed it on the them. That the night, they struck and slaughtered every one in their way, that was when Orvani's true necromantic abilities came to the fore, calling upon such foul magics, the Gypsy scorched the souls of the Sigmarites and sent their bodies shambling home to wreak havoc. Orvani came upon the staff of his mentor and gave a vow, to master the arts of neromancy and to slay all Sigmarites who cross his path.

As the years went on, Orvani became more powerful, corpses raised with but a whisper and entire regiments slain. It was then that he heard of a vampire living within the ruins of a Brettonian mausoleum, rumoured to hold great amounts of necromantic knowledge. Tempted by the notion of power, but not immortality, the Necromancer journeyed to the ruins, inside he found the vampire sleeping and the a treasure which Orvani never thought he would come across, 3 copies of the books of Nagash. They weren't the original tomes but to have such power was good enough. As the Gypsy approached, the Vampire awoke...and seeing the boy's potential offered him the blood kiss. Orvani answered... with a surge or Necromantic power that incapacitated the creature. He approached the black tomes and read a spell that sealed the Vampire's black soul within the book... (to be continued)


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## dragonkingofthestars (May 3, 2010)

I'm game!

Name: Eltor Smith

Gender:Male

Nationality: Imperial

Age: 38

Rank: Necromancer

Magical abilities: Few Eltor is not the most powerful necromancer and he knows it, able to raise at most dozen zombies, 15 with a good tail wind. as such he is fairly unaffected by the necromantic power he wields, physically though his hands have basicly had the flesh rot of them leaving only the bones, so he always has gloves. But he makes up for his lack of power, with tactics and a sound mind, and a fair bit of unconventional thinking, see magic items.


Magic Items: due to his lack of power he only has only a pair of magic items.


One, seemingly, simple, necromantic tome he is slowly going over, or is the book going over him?

accessory: a simple load stone that grants him more precise control over his magic, if not more of it. the item though is shaky and though it often works it some times side effects. the reason is he hand made it is most necromancers go for more power, not more control.

Non magical item wise though, One match lock smooth bore gun, one short sword he kept when he left the army.

Appearance: See below, the cloak is the human skin only dyed.

Personality: cunning and intelligence he understands his own lack of power and uses it as another tool to get his way. after all, he is he no threat he not powerful enough. so they underestimate him.

Background: Eltor was once a farmer, his father in the imperial army and when he became old enough he followed in his father foot steps and joined as well. How ever he soon grew, disillusioned with the empire, or rather how the emperor was handling the situation. He spent one to many days in burned out villages, killed by beastmen, orc,and gods knows what else.

One day in the ruins of yet another ruined village, something called to him, it was a itch on the back of his mind, and when the rest of his hand gunner regiment moved on, he deserted.

In the ruins of a building he found it. A book, they Book, what ever it was it called to him, speaking of power, eternal life, and a chance to remake the empire anew, in his image. No more dying, no more beastmen, no more orks, all it would take was a simple sacrifice.

His mind shifted by the intense magic, alter by the black spells, he agreed, touching the book, in seconds the flesh rotted off his hands and his study's in the ways of death magic, began. 

He was drawn to Orvani like a moth to flame, eager to learn what he could, as fast as he could.


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## Firedamaged (Oct 27, 2011)

Name: Rabastan Erindor

Gender: Male

Nationality: Ocurator Principality of the Border Kingdoms

Age: 18

Rank: Necromancer

Magical Abilities: Singular Animation, Corpse Amalgamation, Unbridled Willpower. Rabastan hates wasted energy and as such is of the opinion that it is better to use a single, powerful tool than spreading your energy over a multitude of weak ones. It is to this end he has devoted his, rather brief, studies. Able to reanimate a single corpse or skeleton, he can also combine the bones and flesh of multiple creatures into a large 'chimera' of a corpse, creating a monstrosity made more powerful with every cadaver added to it. His final area of study is in the mental domination of undead, able to exercise his overbearing will, amplified further by dark magics, on their weaker minds.

Magic Items: Focusing Staff, Tome of Jhereg Ocurator, Amulet of Domination.
Staff; A magical focus, Rabastan uses it as what he hopes will be a temporary measure to help him guide his wild magical talent before he can construct a powerful familiar to replace it. Crude, homemade and potentially unstable if forced to handle too much magic at once.

Tome; The secret Necromantic Grimoire of Rabastan's former master, mostly unstudied so far and the reason Rabastan had to flee his home. Bound in purple leather, the book occasionally makes small, unnerving sounds such as chittering or hissing. Several markers indicate the locations of Rabastan's favoured spells.

Amulet; A device that amplifies the willpower of its wearer, allowing them to more easily subjugate daemons and the undead. Shaped in the cross section of a brain being held in a fist, this small bronze talisman glows a sickly green when used.

Appearance: Rabastan is a tall, lanky man with medium length, spiky, black hair, occasionally pulled back into a short ponytail when he is reading or working. His skin pales dramatically and is being pulled ever tighter to hi features with the continued use of dark magics. Dressed in what once might have passed for court finery in a less civilised culture, his clothes are worn and travel-stained, their colours faded to a dull grey with the occasional spot of purple or red seeping through, and covered by a heavy cloak of dark green.

Personality: Most would sum Rabastan up with one word; lazy. However that is not the entirety of the picture, it merely scratches the surface. Rabastan's main trait is that he utterly despises wasted effort, once commenting 'I sometimes don't see why I should get out of bed of a morning if I am merely to return to it scant few hours later.' As such he is often looking for the easiest and quickest way out of a situation and doesn't understand why others don't do the same. "Why send an army when an assassin will do."

Background: Raised in one of the very few Princedoms of the Borderlands that was led by a wizard, Rabastan's magical talent was spotted at an early age. The boy, barely six at the time was sent off to study under his ruling Lord, Jhereg Ocurator. For three years he, and two other apprentices, a boy and a girl, were instructed in the basics of the arts of magic, how to feel the winds of power, developing their witch-sight, and learning to speak the arcane languages. It quickly became apparent that Rabastan had little to no control over magic at all, minor spells overpowered to the point of excessive danger to all those around him. Lord Jhereg, unwilling to lose a potentially powerful wizard, crafted Rabastan a focussing amulet that allowed him to better use his gift. 

Overjoyed Rabastan practiced day and night in hopes of proving the wizard's faith to be well placed in him. An unfortunate consequence occurred six months later when the amulet became so overloaded with Rabastan's magic that it shattered, releasing a vile whispy apparition of grey smoke. The smoke formed itself into the shape of a man, his visage twisted horribly into one of agony and despair, before floating away, out of Rabastan's practice room. Following the spirit, Rabastan was led to his master's study and the man's small collection of grimoires. A rattling sound came from the back of the wooden bookshelf and a dark purple, leather-bound book rattled its way out of a hidden drawer, to fall to the floor. As if caught by an unseen breeze the book's pages flipped and fluttered until they halted near the centre of the tome. With a great wailing cry, the spirit that had led Rabastan to the room was drawn into the book's pages as alike to water down a spigot. Fascinated, Rabastan picked up the book and began to read.

Several years later and Rabastan's occasional trips to read from the Necromantic grimoire had become a matter of mundanity for him. He had long since mastered the art of making for himself a temporary magical focus and was progressing well with his studies in the Lore of Amethyst magic. It was on one of these occasions when, suspecting something untowards, Lord Ocurator lay in wait. A fierce battle took place that brought down half of the small castle, after which Rabastan was able to flee for his life, carrying only the book, his travelling cloak and an amulet he had stolen from the unconscious body of his master. He was sixteen at the time.


Anything you want me to change, just say so. Looking forward to this.


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## Haskanael (Jul 5, 2011)

Name: Maeva Ice Heart
Gender: Female
Nationality: Kislevite.
Age:50
Rank: Necromancer

Appearance: mostly carrying her Long crimson hair lose but sometimes in a ponytail, she has a long slender body and looks nothing like the 50 years old she is. the most striking part of her body are her bright green eyes that in the sunlight seem to shine golden.

Magical abilities: she charms men and slays them just so she can add them to her personal collection/bodyguard/army. she raise the dead in numbers of 5 at the time tho this leaves her feeling empty and drained.

Magical Items: she gets her powers from a tiara that seems to have a will of its own and always attempts to overwelm her own thoughts and personality. effectively giving her a split personality. and the fact that when she pisses the crown off it refuses to help her, she started her necromantic carreer with it when it promised her she would get her long lost husband back. laking a staff the tiara she had found in an old tomb she fell in before her time as a necromancer also had a wood with silver scepter and a tome bound in human skin. 

personality: she actualy is quite a nice person, tho the personality of the tiara is changing that in no time her badluck for finding it after falling in a sinkhole that led to the tomb where her necromantic journey started.

Background:
how she became a necromancer.​ she was griefstricken after receiving news of her husbands death by chaos marauders. running from the house and into the wild she triped and fell trough a sinkhole into an old tomb were she found a silver tiara with inset rubby's a wood and silver scepter and a book bound with human skin. at first terrified at the sight. she wanted to run away trough the tomb, but she was stopped in her tracks when she heard a voice in her head. "don't run, I can help you!" "how can you possibly help me!!??" she yelled into the darkness. "don't you want your Husband back?"
"yes ofcourse I do!" she yelled again. "take the tiara scepter and book, then your first steps on the road to reclaim your husband will be set." "how do i know you are not lying to me?" "what do I have to gain by lying to you?" "I dont know" "well then what do you think?, put on the tiara grab the scepter and carry the book, you will become the most powerfull woman in Kislev, not to mention that you will have your husband back" "well.. Alright I've got nothing to lose anyways" so she put on the tiara took the scepter and the book, -luckily she found a device and belt so she wouldn't have to carry the book by hand- and the voice guided her out of the tomb.

the search for her husband​when she got back to her village she wen't looking for the men that brought her the news. to ask where the body of her husband was burried. late at night the men where at sleep in the local inn. she barged in their room waking them up. as they mistook it for an easy pickup of a grief stricken wife trew her on the bed and ripped her clothes off. 
and right when they wanted to start the act the tiara intervened. and killed the men insantly, and reviving them at once.
she got scared. but . it was to late, she couldn't take the tiara off again. and the voice had a firm grip on her. and her body. now she is resigned to be an unhappy widow with more power then she currently cares to use. but sadly for her. she doesn't always have a choice. or control.


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## Farseer Ulthris (Sep 6, 2008)

So far so good everybody,

just need one more Necromancer and Master Necromancer


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## Farseer Ulthris (Sep 6, 2008)

Everyone get ready gonna start the thread soon


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## Haskanael (Jul 5, 2011)

I just thought I'd be helpfull.
Action treat for any who had not noticed yet.
http://www.heresy-online.net/forums/showthread.php?t=107802&highlight=morbid


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## Firedamaged (Oct 27, 2011)

@dragonkingofthestars hey, good update, if you want you can have your shot blow a chunk of flesh from a shoulder or something, or if you want to go for comedy have it ping a vertebrae out of place and the skull fall off. :good:


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## dragonkingofthestars (May 3, 2010)

Fine by me. 

Thanks for playing along, it would have been easy to have the thing misfire and not do anything.


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## Firedamaged (Oct 27, 2011)

No worries, adapting to what others are doing makes it fun for me, improv and all that. Looking forward to next update!


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## Haskanael (Jul 5, 2011)

lol your posts on the action treat make me laugh bigtime Dragonking XD


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## Haskanael (Jul 5, 2011)

Is the RP still alive ?


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## dragonkingofthestars (May 3, 2010)

i'm kind of waiting for a update, don't want ti all to be me you wacky necromancy comedy hour,,, dear god i want to watch that show.


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## Haskanael (Jul 5, 2011)

dragonkingofthestars said:


> i'm kind of waiting for a update, don't want ti all to be me you wacky necromancy comedy hour,,, dear god i want to watch that show.


me too wouldbeawesome


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