ECOLOGY

Environment any (Astral Plane)
Organization solitary
Treasure standard (Large +1 shock heavy flail, other treasure)

The Herald of Armageddon is an enigmatic creature that is both more and less mysterious than its master. It looks like a giant shrouded figure floating above the ground, legless and faceless, wielding a heavy flail with ends made of glowing energy. Its visage is often confused with a reaping undead, though it is a living outsider and acts mildly insulted when others assume it to be otherwise. Its voice is hollow and distorted, as if echoing from the far end of a long metal tube, and colored with accents from ruined empires and dead languages. It rarely comes to the prime material plane, and for most of these visits it is merely a silent witness to a great slaughter upon the battlefield or the last gasp of a dying city, though it may strike out with its weapon or magic at a seemingly random wounded or dying target, as if making sure the creature dies as expected.

The herald may be insane from associating with the god of Armageddon, but it has a clarity unknown to mortal worshipers; perhaps its vast knowledge somehow protected it from a truly insane fate, or its status as a herald may give it a kind of lucidity that pierces the fog of madness. It does not cackle at itself like a madman, respond to unheard voices, kill for pleasure, or exhibit any of a dozen other obvious signs of insanity typically exhibited by the mad followers of Armageddon.

The herald does not eat, drink, or breathe; it lacks a face or mouth, and cannot be bribed with food or pleasure. It acts like an unfeeling thing, more patient than a mountain, slowly scouring away at existence like the ocean’s tide or a desert wind. It has no role in the creation of life, and does not seem to take any part in the cultivation or upbringing of creatures or civilizations.

Though it is known to kill without being provoked, it only does so if the target has already suffered serious harm or is on the brink of death, and even these it may ignore; it has drifted over a bloody battle, passing hundreds of dying heroes and officers, only to strike at a single common soldier before vanishing. Once, it killed a human woman moments after a difficult but successful birth, and chose to spare the child. It acts in this callous way toward mortals, undead, outsiders, and even dragons, but never against mindless creatures or those with animal-level intellect. Perhaps these killings are the directive of its god, steering a soul’s course in the afterlife or preventing some future event; perhaps they represent an obscure code, with the time of death and name of the deceased unlocking a cipher over the course of a millennium; or perhaps they are just random acts of violence, the only evidence of the creature’s tightly suppressed lunacy. If attacked, the herald retaliates, though sometimes it ends combat simply by driving some or all of its opponents insane and then retreating. It may return to dispatch these defeated foes days, months, or years later, even on the victim’s deathbed, or it may ignore them utterly and show no recognition if the healed opponents confront it again.

When called by mortals, the herald demands specific deeds of death, injury, or property damage, for the herald always seeks to further the end of times. For example, it may ask that every third adult male in a village be branded on the face with a mysterious symbol, or that a prince with black hair be nearly drowned, or a castle’s eastern wall be cracked but left standing. Usually, these acts have no apparent link to the needs of the herald’s conjurer, and most create a series of events that takes years or decades to play out. It favors the burning of incense and exotic woods, lingering over the fragrant smoke and making strange contortions.

When not serving its god or called by the faithful to perform a specific task, the herald flies over the surface of its god’s moon, pausing to alter parts of the writing on the surface or draw runes on a blank area untouched by the god’s madness. Sometimes it can be seen curled up there on the moon or reclining somewhere on the Astral Plane as if sleeping, though the eerie being is clearly not at rest. It makes no gestures of friendship or comradeship toward other divine servants of its god, though it accepts their presence (and their insanity) as if used to them. On one occasion, it absorbed a servitor into itself, inhaling the creature like smoke, then expelling it a year later with no explanation or apparent harm to the creature.