Cape of Good HopeBoard

Some things are endemic to the universe, things that have been around since time immemorial, and will continue to linger for the rest of eternity. Celestials, non-conscious constructs which predate sentient life on any level are one of those constants. To them, even a supercentenarian's lifespan is nothing more than the briefest instant through their eons of existence. However, not all supernatural begins can claim to be part of the fabric of the universe. Some are the construct of humans manifested through sheer willpower and faith. Others are the universe's bastards; born from pure entropy and never meant to be anything more than minor spirits. They are often forgotten, cast aside into irrelevance, and left to linger throughout eternity without cause or the willpower to exist. However, there is one singular exception to this rule. A minor spirit can grow in power if linked to something tangible and believable.

For centuries, many of these minor spirits played into the pagan religions of the original inhabitants of Monsone. Their semi-nomadic lifestyles, their beliefs in nature, and their humble lives were not dictated by a sovereign and were instead dominated by prayers to spirits that represented different parts of nature. One of those spirits was simply known as Eha, the spirit of fresh water. They prayed and believed in this spirit, asking for favorable floods, merciful rains, and plenty of water that was safe to drink. Eha was thus considered one of the most important spirits. In time this resulted in many other "less important" spirits being amalgamated into the construct of Eha, who would in time become a sort of monotheistic deity which presided over a decidedly small number of other deities. This reverence, however, would end with the arrival of the boat peoples from faraway lands. Coming in large numbers, they brought with them two monotheistic religions which were similar to each other in many ways. Anyone who didn't believe in that narrow belief set was deemed a heretic, which justified the actions taken against the native population.

And so Eha practically disappeared, abandoned by their worshipers, who instead turned to the monotheistic beliefs of the new peoples. Praying to a single god, an all-seeing creator, they did not need "false idols" and thus set about destroying the temples, statues, and shrines dedicated to Eha. In a little over two centuries, Eha vanished from the consciousness and culture of the people who now went by many names but called themselves Monsonians in the broadest cultural sense. Then came the Shingukai invasions, and the horror of wars followed in swift pursuit. As cities burned and people suffered under the yoke of a foreign invader, a different spirit began to manifest itself, one which had been created by the boat peoples as a desperate attempt and perhaps idolizing something other than a desiccated body on some wooden planks. This new spirit had no name, no identity, nothing except a transient existence and the ability to blend in with the Monsonians. When the war came, this spirit sought out power to strike vengeance upon the invader and thus sought out Eha for their powers. Upon finding Eha, the spirit committed deicide. In an epic duel last sixteen months, Eha fought off the enemy spirit with great gallantry and valor. But fate had already decided that the spirit would triumph, and thus on the dawn of the seventeenth month of the duel, Eha was bested. The spirit absorbed the powers Eha had, sending the broken husk of Eha into the realm of death.

The spirit did not know what to call itself, and thus chose a simple name that would allow it to blend into the general populace; Fransesk. Perhaps it was a desire not to end up ostracized like Eha which made Fransesk blend in an attempt to not stand out amongst the scores of people who now inhabited the land. And then it came to Fransesk, to fit in he would have to find a profession that would allow for eccentricity and provides plausible deniability for his powers and potential. Thus, he became a polymath/engineer/alchemist, because nobody would question him in the matters of the sciences and mathematics. In retrospect, this allowed Fransesk to become truly erudite in his understanding of the universe. Mathematics allowed him to discover formulas, theorems, and calculations. Engineering gave him a cover for his inventions. And alchemy permitted him to experiment with attempts to enhance his powers. Killing Eha was indeed, just the start. Soon, every spirit and minor deity across what would become Monsone had been subsumed into Fransesk. He slayed every single one of them with the sole intention of taking their powers to grow his own. That allowed him to slowly begin to mimic the powers of true gods and deities. A skill which over time he would refine beyond even the wildest expectations he could have originally had.

Continuity posed an issue for him but was easily overcome through a variety of personals which would vary from amongst different academic positions. This cover allowed him to proceed with the murder of more minor spirits, and a study into how to mimic the powers of a Celestial. Fransesk wasn't stupid and knew that he hadn't been created to be an all-powerful deity. Indeed he hadn't even really been created with any purpose in mind. But such constraints were not going to stop him in his quest to defy all expectations and limits that the universes could impose upon him. This culminated in The Unification, a process by which Fransesk would join together all the powers and souls which he had collected from minor spirits, and merge them into his soul in a permanent manner. It was something in essence forbidden by the rules of the universe, but something which Fransesk knew was completely possible nonetheless. But to achieve this goal would mean a sacrifice in the form of blood; his blood. And thus on the ninth day of May in 1323, a Sunday, Fransesk leaped from the right belfry of the St. Paul church in Seversvik. It was sometime in the early hours of the morning when he committed this act, away from the prying eyes of humans. Upon leaping, he fell, and fell, and then landed with a thump as he tumbled for several feet, grunting while doing so.

Warm blood streamed across the rough cobblestone from multiple scrapes, and in that instant, Frasesk as a being was dead. All the souls which he had robbed merged with his own, multiplying their powers in doing so. Every facet and being from whom he had absorbed powers merged into one the moment his body hit the cobblestone. Fransesk died that day, gone into the depths of history. Rising from the bloodied stones--unscathed and unharmed--was Francis, the evolution and revolution of what Fransesk had been. No longer constrained by what a minor spirit could do, Francis had transcended what was possible by seeking out his pseudo-demise and thus his own rebirth. By spilling his blood, he had become more powerful than he could ever have imagined. But that would not be the end of his quest for power, no, it couldn't be. Francis was dead set on defying the odds, becoming a being that would rival a Celestial. And thus he turned to the sciences and math once more, seeking out ways to further expand his powers through decidedly "human" means. First, he would attempt to understand himself through math and science, before attempting to understand the building blocks of spirits, searching out what their powers were derived from. And then he began to theorize how to artificially create those powers. It would take him nearly a century to realize that the sole way to achieve this was through another ritual of self-sacrifice.

He shed a small amount of his blood on the floor of his laboratory and formed a pentagram. He lit candles for each corner of the pentagram and sat at the center in silent meditation. Pale from a lack of sunlight, hungry, thirsty, and stretched to the limits of what he would have deemed comfortable, Francis continued to meditate. Silent, and immobile, he meditated for three months. At the end of those three months, the realization he had received was that there were two paths to power, a path of goodness that granted one supreme morality and knowledge, and a path of evil that granted one supreme power at the expense of the little humanity he possessed. Francis first took the latter path. He studied the remnants of ancient texts and attempted to interface with the lords of darkness. He ritually shed his blood in self-sacrifice, performed human sacrifices which he garnered as experiments to avoid scrutiny, committed every sin known to mankind, and prayed to entropy itself, the chaos which made and shaped the universe. During this period, his hair became ashen white, his face gaunt, and his skin as pale as paper. An inhuman combination that signified a total loss of humanity. With demonic teeth and knowledge of the powers of darkness, he was now a freak of society, an outcast who could not live amongst people. He had lost his empathy, his ability to love, his ability to care, he had lost the little which connected him to the people he represented and lived amongst. His blood turned bright purple.

It dawned on Francis that this was no way to live. What he had done was sacrifice everything he had built for superficial powers, for nothing more than strength and brute force. He could not love, he could not be loved. He simply could not live. And what was he to do? Was it too late to follow the path of goodness and attempt to seek some sort of enlightenment? What could he do? Again he was forced to ponder this question. But instead of taking months, the deduction took him merely a few hours. He had to cleanse himself of his original sin to try and save himself from the very fate he had created. Thus, Francis in the middle of winter marched into the mountains near Seversvik. Dressed all in white, he walked barefoot until he reached the top of the Kvel Waterfall. Amid the frozen parts of the waterfall, the thick snow, the white foliage, and the river's ice flows, it was clear what he had to do. Francis stood at the edge of the falls, stoic amid the cold wind, and recited a long-winded confession in the language which he first spoke; Latin. Each word he recited with a prayer-like intonation, calling out his ills, his mistakes, and his sins. By the end, Francis stood shivering over the end of the cliff, staring at his bony white hands which matched the snow. Truly this wasn't the way to live, not if he was to live a life of value as opposed to a life of pure indulgence. He stared out into the distance and glanced towards the distant city and the even more distant ocean which stood further to the west. And with his final breath, he uttered a promise: he would achieve true power through legitimate means. Then, he leaped into the frigid water.

Climbing out of the half-frozen river coughing and wheezing for air, Francis's hair had gone from an ashen white to a silky chestnut brown with hints of gold. His clothes were soaked and began to freeze in the arctic winter air. He seated himself on a snow-covered boulder and observed his breath make plumes while he shivered and his teeth chattered. Unable to raise himself, he was exhausted from the hike to the waterfall. Leaning against a fir, he stared upon the other bank of the river and spotted a figure dressed in white robes with gold highlights. The figure walked to the very edge of the river bank and then crossed the river without effort. A pink face framed by black-blue hair stared at him, and then Francis passed out. He awoke in a bright courtroom, where he was dressed in all-black robes. Forced to sit silent, he listened to the accusations levied against him. For an eternity he sat there, listening as divine beings decried his acts and demanded that he be cast into the depths of hell. Silently, he rolled his eyes at their hypocrisy and ignorance, their stubbornness, and their desire to punish somebody for doing what they normally did. Perhaps what irritated him most was their use of the old tongue, Latin. At that moment he realized that it was the language of punishment and divine justice, a language incompatible with who he--Francis--was. And this when it was time for him to speak, he spoke not in Latin, but in Monsonian. Perhaps it was by a miracle, perhaps it was purely that the court couldn't fully understand the comprehensive pseudo-gibberish which Francis espoused, but their punishment was merciful. Instead of being cast into hell, he was to be sent back and force to atone for his actions for the rest of eternity, constantly under surveillance. It was better than being sent to hell, that was for certain.

From that point forward, Francis would no longer exist. Given a second chance, he couldn't associate himself with that name, but he couldn't disassociate himself from his past. And thus he adopted the middle name Erich, which in time would become his de-facto given name. Now forced to have some semblance of moderation, he took a backseat to active conquest and instead focused on his studies. Over time, he discovered that true power laid not in the powers of Celestials, but in an understanding of the universes' functions. Through the sciences and mathematics, he could mimic and even exceed their powers. It was a revelation that shook Erich's world. All these years and the secret lay with the career choices he had made. And thus, the rest is history, as with these discoveries came a golden age for Monsone and the rise of the Monsonian Empire.

Quick & Random Facts

1. Erich is individually quite wealthy. Through multiple holdings, he has amassed wealth in the hundreds of billions, not including his nearly priceless collections of artifacts ranging from fine art to cars, planes, and clocks. Part of this is due to his longevity, and part of this is due to Erich wanting to amass a proper fortune to demonstrate that a higher being doesn't require solely their powers to live like royalty. Not to mention that committing crimes and living somewhat dishonestly would have violated the terms of his quasi-parole agreement.

2. Speaking of his parole agreement, Erich hasn't abided by those rules since the 1820s. The reason behind that is simply that the being tasked with watching him stopped caring. Who would stop carrying, you might ask? The answer is quite simple; who would have cared about evil and demons in the first place? And who would have the power to stop Erich in the first place, or at least try to drive him to his senses? Do you think he listened?

3. A practically unknown fact is that Erich cannot use his full combat potential. Again part of his parole conditions, he is unable to fully use his understanding of mathematics and science in a battle, because doing so would result in (1) the emission of a particular gravitational wave that would alert his parole authorities, and (2) the powers are taboo to use due to their unnatural abilities which grant the user powers which enable them to go so far as rewriting reality and the fabric of the universe. Erich doesn't want more trouble after having sought out forbidden powers and then proceeding to create an even more potent set of forbidden powers without the knowledge of others.

4. Just because Erich and Ta'lhqejk aren't married doesn't mean that they don't have feelings for each other. They've been a "couple" of sorts for almost five centuries and still seem to be fond of each other despite all that time.

WIP