The Wretched One
CE Nether Lord of Spite, Malice, and Hatred
Domains: Chaos, Death, Evil, Madness, Travel
Favored Weapon: Heavy Flail
The universally reviled Umbrasax is thought to be one of the oldest Nether Lords in existence. Though many of his contemporaries have made concentrated efforts to eradicate him, the Wretched One burrows deeper into the Nether Reallms only to return centuries later with astounding vengeance. Such is the nature of Umbrasax, a petty and wrathful creature who has no grand designs on the universe. He exists only to spread his wretched form of despair and misery to those around him. None count him as a true ally, though he has worked in concert with other spiteful and apocalyptic nether lords such as Avetas in the past.
Despite his disdain for mortals, Umbrasax has an unusually strong following amongst the misanthropes of the world. These cultists are often as reviled as their lord, and rarely are able to operate for long in one area before being driven out. Those that are successful often take the guise of one who can blend into society and use their position to spread spiteful hatred throughout their community. The disenfranchised and the trodden upon often find Umbrasax’s single-minded dogma of vengeance and spite to be especially cathartic.
It is believed Umbrasax’s true form is that of a barely cohesive mound of bile and horrid corrosive effluence, a conglomeration of beings that he has personally infested with hatred and driven to madness. However he more commonly adopts the form of an impossibly old, hobbled man with a scraggly yellow beard and garbed in filthy brown burlap robes. He wields a walking staff in this form, but it is capable of segmenting into a swarm of bleeding wired and heavy weights, suitable for slicing or binding his foes as he desires.
Umbrasax’s realm is called Carmaron, and takes the form of a once austere kingdom that has long since fallen into disrepair and ruin. Despite the condition of the buildings, his realm is rife with wretched souls he has taken who eke out a pointless existence, surviving without reason for the tormented amusement of their master. These hopeless souls rise to the defense of their ‘kingdom’ when invaded, but only in the misguided hope that their death may release them from the endless spiteful misery they endure. A release which never comes.