Demon, Decarabia

Orginally from The Book of Fiends

Designed By Aaron Loeb, Erik Mona, Chris Pramas, and Robert J. Schwalb

Decarabia

Sovereign of the Seventy-Seven Airs

Layer: The Landless Aerie
Areas of Concern: Flying creatures, the firmament, spies
Domains: Air, Chaos, Evil, Subterfuge
Favored Weapon: Spiked Chain

When a mortal prince fears spies in his court, there’s no telling how far he’ll go to protect his reign. As his once trusted advisors burn on pyres of suspicion and terror, the sovereign puffs up with self-admiration for his difficult task. He pays little attention to the flock of crows perched on the gallows crossbar or the gulls circling overhead, waiting for the fires to die down so that they might duck in for a quick meal.

The birds, however, are more attentive. They see in the monarch a growing desperation. They know which of his advisors have been consumed by flame and which by fear, noting which survivors might sell out their unstable leader in exchange for a return to sanity. The birds see all, and all that the birds see is seen by their patron, Decarabia, Sovereign of the Seventy-Seven Airs.

Decarabia claims all the skies as her personal demonic domain and sees the birds that inhabit the firmament as her subjects. To her, birds are not only spies and messengers but paragons of beauty, for Decarabia believes that nothing is more lovely than a living creature in natural flight.

Served by paranoid cranks who wish to learn what birds see in flight and eccentric inventors attempting to establish a means by which a human could fly, she seems more meddlesome than dangerous. But by providing amoral political advisors with reconnaissance in the form of servitor birds, Decarabia presents as great a challenge to the mortal world as any of her peers at the top of the demonic echelon.

In form, Decarabia seems more human than most demon princes, though a number of features reveal her as a creature of the Lower Planes. A cold, harshly beautiful face is marred by four unusually twisted horns that emerge from her forehead and just above her ears. Her alabaster skin is mirrored by milky white eyes that bear no pupils or color of any kind. Blood-red lips and luxurious long black hair contrast her complexion in an unwholesome manner.

Unsettlin jagged wings flare from her elbows, granting her far more graceful flight than their appearance might suggest. Decarabia uses her sexuality as a tool and comports herself in as little clothing as possible; she favors tight skirts and fetishized belts of black leather. She loves flight, spending her entire existence in the air. Years ago, she amputated her own legs to prove her dedication to the sky and its inhabitants.

Her personal layer, the Landless Aerie, reflects her interest in winged creatures and her disdain for solid earth. The layer’s “ground” is a flat, featureless plain of solid metal that extends for leagues in all directions. Above, however, countless rock-islands float upon the winds, ranging in size from a few dozen feet in diameter to several miles wide. They serve as landing points for the fiendish birds and flying demons that make their homes here, and many sport impressive castles or towns upon their surface.

Should its inhabitants displease Decarabia, though, she can cause an island to hurtle downward and smash upon the floor of the Aerie with crushing finality.

Decarabia’s cult remains small, as she prefers to associate with flying creatures such as birds that have no real culture of their own. Still, she is a patron to spies and interlopers who employ birds in their subterfuges, and those hoping to create vehicles or items that bestow flight might offer an incantation to Decarabia before beginning their work. Decarabia’s mortal servants often act as brokers to the rich and powerful, offering them the chance to eavesdrop on rivals using specially trained avian agents.

Obedience

Thaumaturges dedicated to Decarabia must choose a bird familiar. Every morning, the thaumaturge whispers to the bird, telling it all he has witnessed over the past twenty-four hours. The bird then whispers back to the thaumaturge using the voice of Decarabia herself, revealing to the practitioner the secret knowledge needed to successfully replenish his daily spell complement.