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|The Wandering Jew, by Gustave Doré.|
Orginally from The Book of Fiends
Designed By Aaron Loeb, Erik Mona, Chris Pramas, and Robert J. Schwalb
of the Apocalypse
Layer: Dizalakine, the Gate of Entropy
Areas of Concern: Finality, extinction, the future
Domains: Catastrophe, Destiny, Evil, Prophecy
Favored Weapon: Quarterstaff
Raum was born
a full-fledged demon prince in the future, a breath before the multiversal apocalypse
eagerly awaited by followers of Abaddon and Astaroth. Since then, hes
aged in reverseas time passes, Raum becomes more knowledgeable about the
future that only he has experienced. Always honored as a herald of the coming
doom and a patron of hopelessness, Raums unique perspective on things
to come has of late made him a paragon of prophecy. Soothsayers, prognosticators,
tellers turn to Raum for information about the futurewhich hes
willing to share, for a price.
of the Apocalypse obscures himself in voluminous gray robes, which hide a deteriorating
form that grows more decrepit with each passing year. Raum doesnt understand
why hes aging, but he expects to fade from existence entirely within the
decade, and the suspicion that he has not yet fulfilled the purpose
of his creation now drives virtually all of his decisions and actions. After
centuries of contemplation, hes come to the conclusion that he was created
by the Lords of Good to prevent the apocalypse as a sort of sleeper
agent within the Abyss. His preferred means of doing so, however, reveals his
chaotic evil nature.
to use his knowledge of future catastrophes to trigger an apocalypse in the
presenta suicidal bid to prevent himself from ever having existed in the
first place. The multiverse would be destroyed somewhat earlier, but at least
Raum would have prevented the later annihilation of all that is. Further, by
erasing himself from creation he could be absolved of the sin of wiping out
the multiverse. Already heavy with the guilt of being involved in any apocalypse
at all, Raum views the absolution of nothingness as the only reward worth fighting
He long ago
stopped active defense of Dizalakine, his personal layer of the Abyss. No demonic
armies guard its gate and borders, and the prince exerts none of his energies
fortifying the layers natural defenses. The place would be completely
overrun by invaders if not for the fact that Dizalakine offers nothing to its
occupierno cities, no resources of great (or even modest) value, and no
indigenous life worth stealing or enslaving. Forlorn, windswept, and ignored,
the flat plains of the so-called Gate of Entropy stand awaiting a new lord,
passed over time and again by would-be usurpers simply because the current tenant
allowed things to get so bad that the dregs are hardly worth bothering with.
Raum himself occasionally strolls the darkened plains, crying softly to himself
while engaging in sad conversations with remembered friends who have yet to
mad are some who have not so much lost their minds as touched upon a piece of
information or vision of truth that forever changes the way they view the world.
Often the madness manifests as strange voices, hallucinations, or paranoia.
Sometimes it instead produces visions: hazy, half-understood images of the future.
Those lunatics whose predictions bear fruit are known as Children of Raum, in
homage to the demon princes double patronage of the future and hopeless
causes. The Children (those sane enough to function in society, at any rate)
dominate Raums cult, which also teems with seers and fortune
tellers, including a fair number of charlatans. Few openly admire the Harbingers
apocalyptic goals (naïvely viewing these as a minor aspect
of his patronage), but all adore chaos and anarchy. They frequently spur on
natural and political catastrophes, directly in service of Raum or because its
simply their nature to do so.
A thaumaturge in service to Raum must perform a daily card reading for one other sentient creature. The process takes at least an hour, at the end of which the thaumaturge chooses one random card from a 22-card subset to represent the fate card for the subject of the reading. (Use the Major Arcana of a modern Tarot deck to simulate decks specific to your character.) The card is seen as ominous, though the process does not in fact appear to be magical. After showing the card to the subject, the thaumaturge smears it in black ash and tears it in two. If the Death card is drawn, the thaumaturge must earnestly attempt to kill the subject within 24 hours or lose all spellcasting ability for 1d4 days. (Few Raumian thaumaturges advertise this aspect of their service.) When all 22 cards in the subset have been torn, the thaumaturge must replace them at a cost of 2 gp per deck. At the end of the reading, the thaumatuges daily spell allotment is replenished.
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