THE SHADOWLESS
A Perilous Union
With a lifespan of centuries the Shadowless are the offspring of Gods; part mortal, part God, these godlings face a battle for survival, constantly on the run or hiding in far-flung corners of the Northern Realms.
They have powers and abilities which get stronger and more potent as they age and are hunted because of that power. The older the Shadowless get the more their strength grows and with their death, that energy is sent back to the God who fathered them, or distributed between the God and the other Shadowless siblings.
This is how the Gods get stronger.
The Shadowless Damned
The colour of a Shadowless person's eyes matches the robes worn by the priests who worship that God. No two Gods have the same colour and each colour matches the armour that god wears.
The Shadowless are hunted by the high priests who carry out the wishes of their gods, hunted by the Shadow Watchers; armed soldiers who are assigned to each temple, and hunted by the gods themselves.
Hunter or Hunted?
Sundar Hellsgaard brings down Drancríll the Cruel
Like the dragons of the Northern Realms the Shadowless become more powerful as they age often taking centuries to reach maturity.
The powers that the Shadowless possess are usually, although not always, an aspect of the domain that the God who fathered them rules over.
Number Eleven…
The sun streamed in through the sanctum’s window and fell upon the crystal decanter. Droplets of wine clung desperately to the inside causing thin rose-tinted slithers of light to stretch across the table.
With his dark-red robes draped over a chair and silver skullcap sitting beside him Jens Tawalech lifted the decanter and swirled its contents before pouring himself another goblet. It was not yet noon and having already drank three glasses Jens was beginning to feel light-headed.
I’ll just have the one more goblet then make my way down to the temple.
Jens pursed his lips and slurped a mouthful of wine, making sure to wipe away any excess on his tunic sleeve. He finished the wine with one more gulp. Sitting back in his chair a mischievous grin formed on his face.
I’m half cut, he thought.
A loud knock came to his chamber door.
Jens sat bolt upright, his knees hitting the table and jutting it forward, knocking the goblet over.
‘What is it?’ he snarled, snatching the goblet before it rolled onto the floor.
The door opened and an acolyte, a boy in his late teens, stood before him in ill-fitting robes.
‘What do you want, boy?’ Jens barked.
‘A messenger brought this,’ the boy stuttered before producing a scroll from within his dark-red robes.
Jens snatched it from him before unfurling it. He mouthed words silently as his eyes worked their way over the information contained within the scroll.
‘Two men have been seen in Tharn, they headed in the direction of Coingdale,’ he muttered to himself. ‘One of the men went by the name Bralvadier and my contact swears that the other man did not have a shadow.’
‘A Shadowless,’ the acolyte gasped.
‘Yes,’ Jens answered, excitedly.
He jumped to his feet and then rushed to the locker which lay at the foot of his bed. Flinging open the lid he took out a heavy canvas rucksack followed by weatherproof clothes.
‘There’s no time to waste,’ he declared. ‘I must inform the Shadow Watchers and prepare to leave.’
‘Have you encountered a Shadowless?’ the acolyte asked, nervously.
‘Yes, only the once,’ Jens confirmed, as he stuffed clothes into his rucksack. ‘Very dangerous they are; the Shadowless are smarter, stronger and faster than us mortals.’
‘Us mortals?’ the boy quizzed. ‘So does that mean they’re immortal?’
‘Well they can live for over ten centuries, or so I’ve read.’
Jens poured himself another generous glass of wine and then put the goblet to his lips. His hands were shacking with excitement sending some of the wine over the rim before cascading down the sides.
‘Yes,’ he began, speaking more to himself than the boy. ‘The older ones are the deadliest. If they’re old it means they outsmarted the gods and the temples to reach that age. Then there’s their power.’
‘Power?’
‘Each one of these demon-spawn have a power,’ Jens said. ‘A power that grows and becomes more potent as they age. Yes, it’s the older ones you need to be wary of.’
Jens finished his wine before letting out a large burp. He tied the straps of his rucksack, tightly, and made for the door.
‘What will you do if the message is correct?’ the boy asked.
Jens stopped before turning. A dark smile played on his lips and his eyes narrowed.
‘If I go to Coingdale and find a Shadowless there I’ll burn the devil at the stake.’
Hunted by the gods who fathered them
THE SHADOWLESS
Cursed from the moment they are born the Children of the Gods know there is more to having a shadow than making a mark on the ground
Arpherius
Born of a dark storm in the realm of Narquiss, Arpherius moves as though time itself stands still
Valan D’Arakis
Death is never more than a whisper away in the Drops of Tarantum where assassins stalk their prey
Santhom Dar
Born of nobility Santhom dwells in the chambers King Ranulf Dar had excavated under the Royal Palace
Yana Dorn
Yana's mind is flooded with visions of events that have transpired and of things which are yet to pass
Pandimonia Toŕl
Spreading mistrust and suspicion Pandimonia is the rarest of rare things, a Shadowless who kills her own kind
Trisidulous Glarr
Assuming the identity of others Glarr uses his shape-shifting ability to further the ends of those who bid the most
Lórkrond Nox
Unmoved and callous Nox cares little about mortals and often slays those who stand in his way
Kragnárl
Imprisoned beneath the Black Monastery Kragnárl is a hunter who has tracked quarry across entire realms