Third Kingdom
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Rating: 4.6667
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ID: 3439


December 14, 2006, 12:50 pm

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Cheka Man

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Cavasinthas, The Rotting Trees of the Damned


Hideous creatures, they stand motionless and filled with intense sorrow at their existence.

In Bastard Demonspeak, the Demons called Rotting Trees of the Damned are known as cavasinthas, which comes from the Demonspeak khvah’jhazhin’s, “ones of dark rot” or “black putrefying ones”. Hideous creatures, they stand motionless and filled with intense sorrow at their existence.

Cavasinthas generally stand about 8 feet tall, but range in height. They are human-ish in shape, but not quite humanoid, for they are too unformed, like a tall, thick body whose legs are unseparated and whose head emerges like a column from it’s shoulders. Their long, thin arms extend stiffly away from their bodies at bent angles. But generally, an observer is too sickened by the rest of them to be concerned with this body shape. They appear to be composed, entirely, of rot, like hideous trees made from piles of bulbous warts and pustules, masses of stinking veins and webs of clawed, pulpy arteries, crusty, antenna-like extrusions, flacid sheets of muscle that hang, apron-like, bulbous fingers of fungus, long taloned tentacles; the whole creature is slick and shining with slow ebbing, crimson blood. Parts of their long arms are clad in shards of sticky, yellow-dripping bone, and their fingers are long, twisted, irregular things made from flaking, dusty crusted chitin. Where there face should be there is no face, only a simple porcelain funeral mask, smiling stupidly and palely amidst a head of oozing, pustulant horror.

Cavasinthas have no capability to move from beyond where they are planted- their legs are fused together like rotten trunks, and their feet are clawed roots that grip savagely at the ground. When they speak, it is a foul sound, not the sound of a voicebox, but of hideous muscles and impossible organs squelching and splattering together to form words.

The Rotten Trees of the Damned are the children of Tzakhli Boyajh, the Tree With Flowers of Blood, a vast, forsaken god who takes the form of a hideous tree and who rains blood down over the land as it crawls ponderously on giant tentacular roots. The blood splashes to the floors of Hell, and there takes evil root, growing rapidly into the horrible and hideous beings which are the Cavasinthas. Cavasinthas typically are found growing in stands where several drops of Tzakhli Boyajh’s blood have spilt, extending arms mournfully and sending forth an outrageous stench of rot and blood. Standing in these Groves of Fear, they share the pain of their existence, which is infinite and incomprehensible to beings who have their innards on the inside, and compose sad and pain-filled prophetic dirges, which they sing out across the madnesses of Hell. They sing of the day when Its Shadowed Resplendency will explode forth through the membrane between life and Hell, and of the day when the sky will fold upon itself and die, and when the Gods will fall ill in a great divine plague and crash down from Heaven to rend the land, and when humanity will cease to be and the world shall finally, in paroxysms of fear and pain and fury, die, die forever, and the pain of the Cavasinthas will be extinguished forevermore.

Cavasinthas possess the power to grow fruit of blood and rot, which, when burst, release horrible diseases which may instantly slay the victim. In addition, they can, if a being is pushed into their surface, envelope and digest any who are inside them. These unfortunates become forever a part of the Tree, and their anguished faces scream out from the Cavasinthas’ trunk.

Cavasinthas are never pleased, except by their own destruction and extinguishment. Sorcerors who, for whatever reason, summon the Rotten Trees of the Damned, can appease them and break them to will by promising instant obliteration and release from a life of eternal pain.

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Comments ( 9 )
Commenters gain extra XP from Author votes.

Cheka Man
December 14, 2006, 12:51
Now that really is a new type of demon that I haven't seen before-one that WANTS to be killed because it's life is so painful.
December 14, 2006, 12:51
Trust the Captain to come up with something that unqiue.
Barbarian Horde
December 14, 2006, 13:04
Another journey into the grotesque, brought to sinister life by the Captain. I'm sure that I'll summon a few of these eventually.
Voted Scrasamax
December 14, 2006, 13:16
Wow. I think these tortured creatures are close to what I consider the heart of demonkind, living in a hellish condition of pain and suffering so that the onlt reprieve from that is the death of all that is.
Voted Cheka Man
December 14, 2006, 13:46
I feel sorry for this type of demon. 5/5 and an HOH.
Voted valadaar
December 14, 2006, 14:35
Well crafted + unique + emotional impact = 4.5/5

Voted manfred
December 14, 2006, 14:38
Short and to the point, with vivid descriptions of high quality. Pure, unwatered Captain.
Voted Murometz
April 18, 2007, 20:18
Voted Stephie
March 31, 2008, 10:32
This is great! Just caught this in the random submission. I like the idea and the detail. I might have to use it!

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Random Idea Seed View All Idea Seeds

Hooper McFin's Two Shot Portal

       By: dudeington

Now, this ol' ramblin fellow tends to walk his talk a bit too far down the train sometimes.. So I'll be brief in my recantin' of how it was my Tavern "came to bein'" on the multiverse as a weave of it's own spell.. And how I'm even alive to tell the story!

You see it's simple really, trust me.. that's my specialty, keepin it elementary. And you can trust this old Bard.

Anyway, this one night these wizards get a ramblin' on about the temporal exististance of space and time and how it could be manifested in a weave of super dimensional space. whereupon the folded space would give rise to an infinite number of entrances and exits to one or many spaces. Now, seein' how my talkin' sometimes get's locked into the way us folks used to talk back in the ol' west. These wizards didn't know I was a master of the word. and I had heard everything they said. They were also a bit over the wagon, while I was steerin' the show.

So that's how it came to pass, I struck a bargain with the wizards. They come to me in the morning and conjure up their idea into reality and I'd pledge them my life, my existance.. in essence my soul. but in a much nicer sense of the word. So they came by in the morning a half remembering our talks the prior evenin'. And I recanted their words verbatum, and that's how it came to be. The spell was complete that afternoon. My tavern would be the super dimensional cube that would exist in this weave of space and time, folks could come and go as they please, knowin in mind some of the rules and limitations set forth.

A few of 'em as follows.

No feller can be causin a ruckus inside any of my fine establishments, as always rule number one god damnit.

n' second the portal works kinda tricky. When ya outside ya cast the spell and lend your will to luck a bit and regardless the doors to the bar will appear, the windows a luminescent amber.. you can hear the chattee but ya can't see in. And the catch is the door might be locked, in which case you chalk it up to lady luck and go walk off and try again in an hour. Now most times the door pops right open and from the outside you always come in the front door, immediately greeted by myself or one of our many fine patrons of Hooper McFin's Ale & Steakhouse.

Now when ya cast the spell from inside the Tavern, another catch comes up. The back door is mainly a secret for the non-initiated staff and the regulars but for sake of the prose let's assume we all know there's a secret door in the back with a portal there. Now when you go on through this one, you got two scenario's you oughta be aware of. One is ya pop outside relative to the same spot you came out. The other is, you walk back on into this one or another of our many Hooper McFin's Ale & Steakhouse.

so it's a clever quantum railroad I got my tavern and my people's caught on. But, Hey the show's sure as always goin. ohhh' rutin tootin skidoodle -

** And that's it.. that's the only notes I found on the spell, apparently out there somewhere is a Tavern caught on the mighty ebb and flow of the multiverse. Well. at least I can put to rest my torment as to the condition now referred to as "Hooper McFin's Teleportation Paranoia".

Dr. Clarke T. Mulligan - Professional researcher of Time & Space.

Hooper McFin's Ale & Steakhouse

Ideas  ( System ) | June 21, 2015 | View | UpVote 4xp

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