Sahark Seraphim Sheraptus, Prince of the Netherlings, Lord of Arkklan Kahaarn, son of Telperinquar and Ulbecetonth, Last of the House of Annatar, the Angel made Demon, the Slave made King, He Who Was and He Who Never Could.
“Sheraptus is the only thing alive who never once pleaded for the Gods help as he fell into the abyss.”
Quoth the Cruel Angel.
Sheraptus, Sheraptus, Sheraptus. It sounds like a name, but in reality it is a human in a monster’s flesh.
Given what we know about female Netherlings, it seems more than a little ridiculous to think that they might fear anything. But even predators have predators and there’s always something in a forest that a beast fears. I have seen that which commands these bloodthirsty creatures. I have seen they who presume to direct the tide of iron and fury that is the Netherling female. I have seen that which demon, warrior and monster fears.
And it wears a pretty, black dress.
I suppose the technical term is ‘robe,’ just as they are technically ‘male.’ But if the women of the Netherlings are tall, powerful and consumed with a thirst for blood, I suppose it makes sense that their men are short, slender and consumed with a hunger for flesh. It wouldn’t be fair to suggest that Netherling males are more intelligent than their counterparts, but they are possessed of more patience.
Just enough to grasp the concepts of torture, deviance and a slow, burning death.
It would be folly to say that the males are possessed of any more cruelty than the females–they’re vile in equal measure, they simply apply it differently. Where the females are bloodthirsty and vicious, the males are devious, arrogant and possessed of far crueler appetites.
Not a lot of what we know of the males can be considered fact: they are fewer number, they assume roles of leadership—due, at least in part, to the females’ preference that someone else handle issues that don’t involve stabbing people—and they display a talent for magic and no evidence that the laws governing such power applies to them.
This would be bad enough without considering the rumors surrounding them.
They have a fondness for females not their own, it’s suggested, looking enviously at them as children look enviously at shiny new toys. And like children, they grow bored with their toys and start wondering how much it would take to break them. The stories of torture and violation that surround the male Netherlings are not numerous. The rumors of how they use their magic toward depraved ends and nefarious purposes are not well known. The terrified whispers about what they do to women are not wide spread.
And, once you look into their eyes, they’re not at all hard to believe.
The next page is stitched on, and written hastily.
It appears that my initial generalization of Netherlings as violent sub-humans ruled by instinct and their love for brutality was a little hasty. Not that it was inaccurate, of course; Netherlings are most certainly depraved and violent, but that’s not all there is to them.
Above all else, netherlings are creatures of capacity. For cruelty, most certainly. For violence, definitely. For hatred, there’s no end. They are a people that perform in excess in every aspect of their lives.
Emotion, as I understand, is a rare and alien thing to them. They prefer things they can see, that they can hold and usually strangle. Things intangible to them, like faith, like love, are things they aren’t sure how to moderate. And still, their hatred seeps into everything they do.
A Netherling introduced to faith will burn everything alive in the name of gods whose teachings they don’t understand just because they would want to see that happen if they were gods. And a Netherling who loves will go on fighting because they can’t conceive of dying and leaving what they love.
A Netherling with hatred is dangerous, but predictable. An emotional netherling is something else entirely.