Twin katanas made of midnight steel. Harboring the a tiny spark of the immensely powerful essence of the Purveyor of Sins Himself, their slender blades will suck the life out of another demon unfortunate enough to ever find itself the quarry of the relentless hunter who wields them. However, normal mortals are competely immune to their killing effect. It inflicts no damage on them save what a normal weapon would.
Standing tall at a towering 7 feet,his hulking frame is competely encased in gleaming black oval adamantium plates that have been sewn into his leathery green hide. Not an inch of bare skin can be seen,making it extremely difficult for a foe to draw his demonic blood. To make matters even tougher, the plates cannot be ripped off by any physical means, enchanted as they are to withstand any attempt to sunder them from his flesh. Only a powerful force of magic can deprive the Hulan of his armor. The twin bull like horns growing from his head are also sheathed in adamantium to make them deadly weapons if need be,as are the scythe shaped claws that protude from the eight tapering fingers found on each hand. The eight foot long tounge that lolls from the gaping maw of his mouth, is covered with millions of tiny little razors that can strip off the hide of any lesser demon.
As for his eyes, they are blazing red orbs that mirror the scorching flames of Hell, filled with his rabid determination to carry out his master’s bidding. But look past those fearsome flames, and you will see the poignant,all too human desperation that exists within…
In his mortal life, he was Agustine,devoted worshipper of the fearsome Aharst, Purveyor of Sins, Lord of the Flesh, Eater of Infants, who serves only the Vizier of Hell in the demonic heirachy.
Like his fellow demon worshippers and cultists, he partook of the most inhumane and saddistic sacrifices and rituals, spilling the blood of many an innocent child to appease the dark cravings of Arhast,eager to attain the highest honor that the dark forces would bestow on a faithful, devoted worshipper in the after life.
But least one think otherwise,his heart was not wholly consumed by ardour for the Arhast, though he revered that great demon above all. Love and adoration he possessed for one that meant as much to him as Aharst, but in a very different way. Her name was Allahna, a fellow cultist in the forbidden worship of Aharst, one who shared his staunch devotion to the fiend. Like him, she too had joined the cult at the youthful age of nineteen, lured by the promises of freedom from the stifling obligations imposed on her youth by the dead, dry gods of their elders. Aharst would free her, as he would all those who embraced the great fiends.
Particpating in the great orgies thrown by the worshippers of Arhast to celebrate the sins of the flesh that their master so relished,they would be drawn to one another by a force that neither could comprehend. As their naked, sweating flesh would unite to fill them with carnal pleasure, their souls very souls were pleasured with something that transcended the mere physical delights of the flesh.
Soon,their trysts in the fields developed into something else, as they begun to open their hearts and minds to one another, slowly and shyly at first, wary of their first brush with true romance, then more quickly and earnestly,as their souls found great joy in the presence of the other. Agustine woudl tell her tales of his father, a drunk cleric who by day, assumed the white robes of one unsullied by sin of any kind to preach virture to hs flock,but by night, would return home drunk to severely beat his unfortunate wife and son. She in turn, would tell him stories of her greedy mother who would force her young daughter to pleasure her male visitors with her body, in return for the gold coins that they would give the vile old hag for doing so.
And in each other’s arms, they learnt to let go of the painful past and look forward to the glorious future that awaited them both in the arms of Arhast.
Their happiness was not to last. The cultist of Arahst sarcfice all infants born of their orgies to their master, burning the helpless little babes in the great bowels of the vast golden statue of the bull headed Arhast. Every year, its cavernous hollow empty half was opened to accept the offerings of those new born lives that the demon has claim to.
Thus the reason for the sadness that assailed Agustine when came to him, telling him that she carried his child, His own flesh and blood he now had to feed to Arhast who would not be denied what was His. As much it hurt him to do so, he would not dare to even conceive of defying his lord.
Alhanna though, did not see it that way. Seized with the frenizied love that only a mother can feel for the life that grows within her, she spat in his face when he told her that the head priest would have to be informed of this, so that he could prepare for the sacrifce that would follow as a matter of course. Cursing his cowardice and his refusal to accept his duties as a father,she walked away,woving that Arhast be damned, she would never allow anyone to take her babe away from her.
Agustine knew at that terrible moment with his heart that she would do anything to keep her a babe, even if it meant that she had to betray her erstwile companions to the clerics. And that could not be allowed to happen,love or not. The fate of Arhast’s followers rested in his hands. With that unbearably heavy thought resting on his shoulders, he set out to tell the head cultist of what Allhanna no doubt intended to do,hating himself every step of the way for doing what he had to. That night,he stood with the others in a field as they watched Allhanna dragged to a makeshit gallows that had been set up just for her. Careful not let her recognize him in the final moments of life that remained to her, he wept his silent tears as the head cultist read out her sentence. She had been found guilty of harboring intent to betray the very ones that too her in and would hang for her crime,for only the blood of worthy sacrifces would be spilt, and she foul traitor that she was, did not certainly deserve that honor.
He continued to weep with nary a sound,as she was led to the noose,screaming for her love to save her. Even when her neck was snapped by the noose,he remained silent. Treachry to Arhast had been avenged and who was he to lament that?
A week later, his staunch loyalty to Arahst was rewarded when the head cultits drew him from the hopeful ranks of his fellow cutlists to offer Agustine an honor both glorious and terrible. Arahst had been touched by his devotion. The Purveyor of Sins was so impressed that there was a mortal in His flock that was willing to condemn to death of the woman he loved so dearly, rather than be untrue to Him. Such a mortal was worthy of becoming one of his demonic warriors in the after life, a gift given only to the most blessed and worthy among the race of men. Was he willing to undertake the great sacrifice and become a Hulan, a warrior of Hell absolutely dedicated to the service of his Master?
Agustin was. After the death of his beloved Allhanna,life as a human being seemed to so wretched and meaningless. All he wnated now,was to serve the Master for whom he had sacrificed so much in order to please, to reward him for his unfliching debotion by making him one of his most trusted minions.
And so was it, that on the night when the Red Moon,personal symbol of Arhast, burned in the cold dark vaults of the heavens with its unearthly radiance, Agustine jumped onto the great pyre prepared for him, bidding farwell to his mortal existence. As the flames devoured his body, his soul was drawn up by infernal sorceries to the relam of Hell, where the fearsome presence of his master awaited him. Here was Arhast Himself, a monsterous abombination with the head of a bull and the body of a man, appearing as he always had in the depictions of him by his devotees. But now when the shade of Agustine groveled before Him, half in worshipful awe and half in cringing terror, He seemed so much more than that. A giant that by his presence,made the entire world small and the greatest mountains no more than pebbles, his very horns scraping the smouldering winds of Hell.
Overcome, Agustine’s shade trembled as a voice powerful enough to shake the very foundations of Hell, issued from the cavernous black muzzle,ordering him with it’s awesome power to renew his oaths of loyaty to the Purveyor of Sin. Agustine took them,the very fabric of his incorpeal body shivering with anticipation with what was to come next. Then he felt a tremedous burden pressed on his hithero free shade, as it was squeezed by some invisible force of great strength into a new shell. After what seemed an eternity of gut wrenching pain that seized his shade as it was squeezed into a vessel that seemed to small to hold it, he opened his eyes to gaze upon a beastial, viciously clawed hand that was poised directly below his eyes. A hand that belonged on a fiend that existed only to kill, a fiend that obtained its greatest pleasure from ripping the life out of the prey it was made to hunt from the very first days of its existence. He was now a Hulan demon. Still awed by the miracle that had just befallen him, he listened with rapt, astounded silence as the great demon Arhast proclaimed a new name for his new identity. Bolar or in Demonspeak, the One who wiil Sacrifice All.
For the next 25 years, Bolar hunted some of the more rebellious lesser fiends that in their arrogance, sought to defy and rebel against the authority of their natural superior like the exalted Aharst. These he would track down and hunt to the most remote and obscure corner of either Hell or earth, never ceasing until he had found them in their lairs and drunk their cursed blood with the hungry blades that given to him by the Master personally. Ahh ,such sweet satisfaction did he get from carrying out his Master’s orders. Even among the Hulan, he knew that he was easily one of the best, taking on the most notorious outlaws and rebels of the infernal relam that the others would have hesitated to confront, like the rouge warrior Lavas demon or the crazed Night Mare that had both caused a lot of bother for the Arch fiends of Hells, renegade demons of awesome strength and power they were with whom a normal Hulan demon would not have cared to tangle with. Such toying with is demonic existence helped him to forget her…
But when there were no orders to carry out,no fearsome quarries to dispatch, there she was ,tormenting him with her bitter, accusatory words. Oh, his sweet Allhanna,how she hated him for failing her…
As she should. For it was his betrayal that had condemned her to forever roast in the scorching flames of purgatory. Reminding himself of his true duty to Arahst, Bolar resolved to destroy the weak, snivelling remants of his humanity that still clung on to stubborn existence in him. It was that weak, despised part of Bolar which persisted in urging him to treasure her memory and save her from the flames that his betrayal had doomed her to.
And yet despite his best efforts to stamp it out, that part only grew stronger. Bolar’s very unwillingness to acknowledge it, only served to nourish and water that nauseating weakness within him
At last,that part grew so strong that it filled his mind with Alhanna’s final bitter, depsairing cries, allowing him no rest for even the meanest moment. Unable to endure it any longer, in a fit of crazed desperation Bolar stormed the dungeons of his master, where the imprisoned souls of those who turned their backs on Arhast were doomed to suffer eternal pain forever, determined to free her soul.
But the guards were too numerous and strong, and so mighty and peerless warrior though he was, Bolar soon found himself overpowered and dragged before his enraged Master to receive judgement.
But to his great surprise,his soul was not destroyed as was the fate laid out for any Hulan demon that give way to weak, self-destructive human desires. Instead, he was given an offer. Of late, a certain filthy half-breed by the name of Rachat had been troubling his Master be slaying some of the latter’s minions. If Bolar, His most deadly warrior succeeded in dispatching that bastard spawn of some third rate fiend, not only would he be forgiven and spared the destruction of his soul, his beloved Alhaana would be freed from eternal torment and allowed to move on.
Scarcely daring to believe his ears, Bolar wasted no time in professing his effusive gratitude for this unexpectedly merciful gesture made by Arhast and woved to bring back the head of this Rachat that so vexed his most exalted Master. With the delightful words of his Master still ringing in his head, he set out on the hunt for Rachat, seeking to bring him before Arhast.
That was some time ago. Since then Bolar has learnt a lot about his quarry’s fearsome reputation as a demon hunter from those of demon kind that he has encountered on his quest to slay the halfbreed, gradually coming to the realization that Rachat will probably pose the biggest challenge of his demonic existence. But even as his respect for the other hunter grows, so does the maddening urge to put him down for good. He knows that as time passes, Arahst’s impatience with His minion swells. Unless Bolar succeeds in putting an end to Rachat for good,and soon at that, he risks loosing all that hangs in the balance.
Arhast has no intention of keeping his promise. When Bolar finally slays Rachat, his soul will be devoured. Arhast never forgives lapses in his servants.
Special Power:Bolar like all Hulan demons, can slip into shadows and merge with them, allowing him to creep up on his victims unseen and unheard.
Moment Of Truth: Confronting Rachat in the final battle, Bolar is told by the demonic old man that the great Arhast intends to double cross him. Does he believe the one he has promised to destroy,or will he continue to trust in Arahst’s dubious promise?
Wrath Of The Master:Bolar faces Rachat but is defeated, barely escaping with his life. Word of it reaches Arhast’s ears. Enraged with Bolar for his faliure,the arch fiend sets his other hounds on Bolar’s tail. Hunted by his former comrades, the former demon enforcer must now seek help from his erstwhile quarry, Rachat himself.