Overview - Joining - Contracts - History


Purpose: To foster a tight brotherhood of trained fighters and assassins. To ensure the continuation of the legacy of the Dark Flame.

- Velkan, current vessel for the Dark Flame and the leader of the Triumvirate.
- Two mortal Triumvirates, and a mortal Innner Circle.
- The Triumvirate is responsible for the puublic and private agenda of Inferno.

Requirements for Brotherhood

- Commit your intents to parchment to the Brotherhood stating your desire and reasons behind it.
- There are two available positions to train for, Assassin (executing contracts), and Colporteur (spreading Inferno's word). The two jobs are not restricting of what you can do, simply defining your main focus and function. - Support of one member of the Triumvirate and two full brothers.
- Ability to endure great mental and physical challenges.
- The willingness to lay down one's life foor Inferno.
- To have lifelong fidelity with Inferno. - Be of sufficient age and experience to innteract with the brothers.

Procedure for purchasing a contract

- Contact a member of Inferno for pricing iinformation.
- A down payment of half quoted price is required before contract is official.
- Down payments will not be refunded if client cancels contract.
- Have all pertinent information of the target for accurate pricing.

The History of Inferno

The Gathering The Infernal Spectre
Sebastian The Inferno
Another Vessel The Wait
The Task The One
The Chosen  

The Gathering

In a land far beyond Arinock, In a long time forgotten there existed a group of individuals the realm has never encountered before. This group was summoned by some great power to a secret locale, located deep within a mountain pass. Noone in the beckoned group knew why they had been summoned, it was as if some great hand had guided their hearts and mind with one single purpose. The gathering. With this irresistable force pulling on their very immortal soul, the men and women journeyed into the craggy mountain pass to seek their destiny. The way was hard, many died in the process, be it from falls, daggers, or treachery only the strong survived.

At the source of this summons stood an ancient and powerful being. This being gazed down upon the mortals with fire blazing from his eyes, and a smirk crossing his lips. It uttered these epic words: "Fear us for we are one, Fear us for we are Inferno."

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The Infernal Spectre

At the utterance of that prophetic sentence, some wept and some were exaltant. What is not debated is the binding force those words had on the group. Those words have bound the members of Inferno closer than mortal chains for the past centuries. In the following days each person had a visitation by the Infernal spectre. Each person had a revelation as to why they were summoned. Some were summoned because of their bravery, some for their intelligence, and some for their beauty. The common thread that had been weaved was that they were the finest beings the realms had to offer. Each one of the persons had been implanted with a part of the Infernal soul. Upon receipt of this immortal gift, a veil was lifted from the hearts and minds of the group. They were aware that the Infernal soul had no beginnings, and no ends. It is rumored that at the spawning of the world a bit of the Creator and a bit of the Destroyer were combined to form the Infernal soul. Thus the implantation of this seed within the guests caused them great shock and honor at being the bearer of such a gift. Throughout the centuries the descendants of these first vessels have been scholars, and doctors, and country-ruling tyrants. In general, persons of great influence and power.

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The story continues that this being of flame and power sought to journey to a higher realm. To complete this journey the being had to impart the know- ledge and power of all the previous bearers of the Infernal soul, the core essence of the Infernal soul, to a worthy bearer. Suddenly all were aware as to why they had been summoned, it was to be chosen as a successor for the vessel of the Soul. In the days that passed the shrouded being imparted long forgotten secrets and techniques of ancient masters. It is during this time that one man became a particular favorite of the being. He was a man who was powerful of stature, reflective in nature, quick of wit, and cunning as a fox. He was the perfect candidate for the Soul. His name was Sebastian. The Infernal soul summoned all those who were gathered in that secret place, when all were present the Soul uttered some arcane words and instantly all present were transported to a mystical place.

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The Inferno

This mystical place , which seemed to be a cave, seethed with unbeleivably powerful mystical energies. In the center of this cave there stood a huge torch burning black with power. Surrounding the torch were ancient symbols of power. Although, noone could read the ancient language, all knew of its portent. They knew that they were in the singularity known as the Infernal Soul. The vessel of the soul had drawn all gathered into itself and exposed itself to them. The power was immense, one could sense the accumulated know- ledge and power of centuries of leaders, generals, and assassins all stored in one place.

The flame started to beat in concert with everyones heartbeat. With a clarion call of trumpets and drums, the flame swelled mightily and exploded from the confines of the torch into the supplicant form of Sebastian. The future vessel lay contorted on the floor, writhing in what seemed to be utter agony. He uttered ancient curses and vile phrases. Then all went black.

There was nary a breath or a pinprick of light in the cave. Then slowly, surely, two points of reddish light began to grow strongly in the pitch black cave. Growing in intensity, all present could see that the two points of light emanated from Sebastian's eyes. The light continued to grow in intensity until it bathed the entire cave in its beauty. It caressed all that were present, and made them feel at ease. Suddenly the light flared, and Sebastian was garbed in long flowing black robes, there was not a trace of any hair on his head or face. His eyes smoldered a golden-red. Sebastian slowly floated from the floor to a newly present flaming dais hovering in the air. When seated he surveyed the audience and smiled. With a whisper, that carried the force of thunder, he spoke these words: Fear us for we are Inferno, Fear us for we are one.

He then instructed all those that were gathered that they should travel the world and amass power and influence whenever they could. He gave command- ments that members of Inferno are closer than brothers, they are bearers of a touch from the Infernal soul. They kill for each other, they die for each other, they live for each other. They conquer for each other.

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Another Vessel

Lord Krishach! Lord Krishach! a young page yells as he speeds for his kings throne room. As he bursts through the doors he is met by a sight of gore. The bodies of the kings bodyguards lay strewn about the room, failed in their struggle to save their king. The body of the king sits blackened and smoldering in a burned throne.The page turns to flee the horrid sight, runs to the door and suddenly stops, slumps to the floor and expires. A large draconian form exits his hiding place and surveys the room.

Suddenly the smoldering corpse of the king bursts into flames. The flames start to darken before the large draconian, until they are black. The draconians eyes go wide as a hears a voice, then he grins with recognition and kneels. Upon looking up he speeks a phrase feared far and wide, "Fear us for we are one, Fear us for we are Inferno."

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The Wait

Ages pass since the last Vessel had been chosen to lead the Triumvirate. A brief moment in the eyes of the Infernal Flame. Those who remained loyal to the Flame continued their tasks of contracted assassinations, and those who chose to free themselves failed to see their error. Others who had once been, now reborne, seek to rejoin as servants, undying and unfettered. Those who chose to stay gathered in a secret meeting, compelled by their master. Each brought sacrifices to feed the Forge of the Infernal Flame, the place of its initial resurrection, enshrined by the priests of Inferno. Gift after gift the Flame grew, finally glowing to an intense white flame, hottest of all fires. Its intensity grew to an incredible stature, then disappeared in a blinding flash. Those that gathered there reeled back and stumbled from the blast, very few had the strength and willpower to climb to their feet, kneeling was the only alternative. As sudden as the flame had extinquished, the red glow of fire returns once again to the Forge. The Infernal Flame had been summoned, but had not found a worthy and suitable host...

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The Task

The heat of battle lusts in the heart of men as screams of anguish and frenzy eminate from the battlefield. One side, the Order of the Crimson Rain, the other, a kingdom of infiltrators, attempting to take power from the Order. The Order bellowed their warcries and fought valiantly and with Honor, but the king was a coward, and forced even his lowest of peons to fight for him. The Lord's vanguard were quite skilled, most who came to take the King's life wound up dead, all other options had been exhausted, save for one. The Order had been collaborating with Inferno for quite some time, writing a contract for the head of the King. Crimson Rain deligates met with the Triumvirate, finalizing their contract.

'Our target is well guarded, Noble,' one of the Triumvirate stated.

'Price is of no obstacle, Sir,' one Deligate boastfully said, 'What cost now?'

The Triumvirate peered at eachother, apparently coversating through an extra sensory projection. They nodded their heads confidentally, and stated their price.

'The price on the head of the King,' one Triumvirate said, 'Which will include the guards...we count six...will cost you a mere seventy-five.'

The Deligates chuckled at their price, stating that seventy-five was simple enough, only to realize that wasn't the actual price due to the smirks on the faces of the Triumvirate.

'Seventy-five million, Nobles.' The deligates narrowed their eyes, 'Done.'

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The One

'More mead, wench!' the King bellows as he slaps the girl on her bottom, 'I drink to the victory of our Kingdom! The 'Bloody Rain' have failed to defend their territory! I have won! Buwahahaa!'

The King is a grisley creation indeed, fat belly, mussed hair and pampered to the core. He holds a leg of lamb in one hand, and a goblet of mead in the other. In his throne room he feasts, for no other areas have not been scruitinized by the Order. His throne is caked in grandulated sugar and loose meats that fall from his mouth as he eats sloppily. Six vanguards, with hands on their hilts at all time, wear the lightest and strongest of armors, blessed by a thousand priests. The king begins to gnaw greedily on his lamb when a sudden gust of wind blows out all the candles that have been lit. The King freezes, meat dropping from his mouth.

'Guards!' he says nervously, 'Close that bloody door, you don't want your King to catch cold!' After no response, he ordered one of his servants to close the door that had creaked open. The servant bows deeply and complies. As the servant approaches the door, they simply freeze, then slumps to the ground, body drained of their life essence. The king stands and shouts orders to his vanguard, protecting him and angrily eyeing the room. For a brief moment a shadow can be seen before one of the vanguard before they slump down in the same manner as the servant. Their eyes widen further as the servant and guard stand, hungrily eyeing the vanguard.

'It's the undead!' squeals the King, 'Kill it! Kill it!' The King hops onto his throne as his vanguard begin to battle with the ghouls. One by one his vanguard fall to the might of the animated dead, finally, one stands his own. The single vanguard nervously backs up to protect the king, only to see that same shadow appear in from of him, slumping to the ground like the others.

The King's eyes widen in terror, 'G-g-g-ghost!' screeches the King, 'Why have you come here to torment me?!" The king sits in his throne, curling up into a fetal position, rocking back and forth. The shadow appears once again, but instead of disappearing in that same instant, the form remains. It's frame is that of a human's, but the tusks of an Orc, hair bloodied from the fray, his body is frail-looking, but a strange glow eminates from his eyes. The man narrows his eyes, reaching out towards the King, who cringes at the approach of his steady hand. Sweat pours from the forhead of the King, evaporating into a steam, which appears to drift towards the man, encircling his hand. With a sudden lurch forward, the man grasps the King by the face, and a green force of light seeps from the pores of the king as his body withers and shrivels. The assassin breathes deeply as the green light fuses with his body, then breathes out, satisfied the job is done. The man turns his head towards the ceiling as he speaks, "It is done," and disappears in a darkened glow.

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The Chosen

Another dark meeting, called by the Infernal Flame, compelling followers to the Eternal Forge. There are many new faces, some seasoned veterans, some elite warriors, placed in unlikely circumstances. Once again gifts bore the same results of the white flame, bursting with a blinding energy. After the glow of the flame returned, the Triumvirate and other members of Inferno gazed about themselves, hoping the Infernal Flame had chosen a worthwhile host. The man, frail and soaked in blood from his contract, looked about the room confidently as a gigantice flame appears in front of him. Gasps of wonder and reverance tell that the Flame has chosen a new Vessel. A burst of energy sends the half-orc flying into the wall behind him as the Infernal Flame claims his vessel, engulfing him in the Eternal Fire of its form. The man, still coarsing with fire stands, eyes glowing a firey red. The Triumvirate kneel in respect, and the other members as well, chanting in reverance to the new Infernal Vessel.

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