Sigil: City of Doors

In front of the Mercykiller prison a dark fiend dropped down from the sky and planted himself before the gates. His bat like form, as a shadow, before the red death guards at the gate, his red eyes bearing down on them from within the darkness.

“Who goes there?” One yelled, startled by the suddenly unexpected arrival, as two more came hurried from inside the prison to back them up.

The Cornugon unfurled his wings and stepped forwards into the lamplight from above the gates. His body scaled and spiked and dark grey.

“Good evening kindred souls, tonight is a wonderful night for you have found Naz’Ra’Chok’Sil and I will accept your invitation to become a most skilled and valued member of your organisation.”

The guards looked at him for a moment before one spoke. “Invited? Who invited you?”

The Cornugon raised an arm with talon pointed and gestured at a young and trembling guard at the rear holding a halberd. “Why… himmmm…” His voice rumbled through them.

The guard at the rear began to stutter as if his weak will was broken and telepathically bullied, he succumbed to the words of the Cornugon in his mind.

“C..c..c….come inside!” The young Mercykiller covered his mouth suddenly and looked around at the other men in shock.

“What have you done berk!” Yelled another.

It was too late the Cornugon was invited and began to walk forth to enter their prison. One man lashed out at him with a blade but it glanced off the CornugonÂ’s armoured skin and was swatted away by his scaly talons and a glare that could rot ones soul.

Inside the prison entrance the Cornugon marched towards the front desk with all four guards on pursuit weapons out and unsure whether to move on the fiend or not.

“I would like to join your faction.” Naz’Ra’Chok’Sil announced to the prison registrar and casually bowed his horned head towards all those inside.

"I will uphold Justice before all else, purging the multiverse of those who break the law.

In all situations I shall weigh the rights and wrongs with a clear and impartial mind.

I shall decide where Justice must fall under the law, and I will mete out that Justice with a firm and unyielding hand.

I believe in the righteousness of my faction: We alone answer to the higher law of Justice.

I will not pass judgment on good or evil, only on law-abiding and law-breaking, for therein lies wrongdoing."

"I will punish the guilty as the crime demands.

I will be diligent in my pursuit of the guilty, and while so engaged I will remain innocent of any wrongdoing in the eyes of others.

I will never release a lawbreaker until his sentence has been carried out."


As he finished reciting the tenets of the Red Death the Cornugon placed down the script he had read from and then signed an elaborate signature on a contract using a quill handed to him.

The job was done and he was handed his badge.

"When will my training begin?" He asked.

Arwyl Swan's Son, Mercykiller Factotum, stood with arms crossed, his eyes narrow and lips pursed tightly with disapproval as the Cornugon vowed his allegience to the faction, the fine blonde hairs on his arms practically standing on end as he felt the waves of innate evil pouring from the fiend's powerful form. Every instinct from decades of paladinhood screamed at him to draw his sword and smite the creature before him, evinced in the tight bunching of the muscles of his forearms; only his equally strong vows to the faction kept him in check.

Another to Nilesia's coterie, it seems. Even under stress, his mind raced, viewing the new conscript pragmatically and in stark contrast to his heart. His nature will keep him from betrayal, yes, and he will likely be a strong defender if the Sinkers think to make trouble again. But in the same vein, should Alisohn finally snap...

His head gave a brisk shake to banish such negative thoughts, then shook harder at the sound of spiked steel heels striding on the flagstone floors. "Of course you would be quick to arrive. He wants training, I'll leave such things to you, Phoebe." With that, he turned briskly on his heel, the heavy iron door slamming shut behind him as he vanished into the Prison's yard.

"Another infernal. Lovely, and so big!." A steel gauntlet brushed the length of Naz's arm, the platemail-clad woman the footsteps belonged to appearing at his shoulder. "Welcome to the Red Death." Her smile up at him was welcoming, although something in her slightly slanted eyes gave even the massive Baatezu pause, a sense of being measured in some way. "Or to be more precise, welcome home."

Acceptance made the Cornugon content and as such he radiated his satisfaction through telepathy to his new comrades, yet at the same time in some cells screams of panic were heard as he let out a vision of spiked chains ripping flesh and vile acts committed by prisoners by themselves upon themselves through torment.

The Cornugon grinned to his superior drawing back scaley cheeks and revealing massive row upon row of razor teeth all the way back.

"I shall need chains, lots of chains." He said in a rumbling and terrible voice.