Frojoe21
2005-09-01, 12:38 AM
Inspiration for the Cadre
A couple months ago, a friend of mine came up with a group of bad, nasty guys for a comic he had created, and asked me to give them a little more depth. He needed that depth in order to have a limit to what these bad guys could do, so I created these monstrosities.
After a few days of 2am labour and revising, I came up with some stats reflecting them. Loathing and Pain were easy enough, because they were pretty basic in their concept. Disgrace was a bit of a challenge, because the description I was given was incredibly vague and contradicting. At first Disgrace was big, then small, then all over the place. The ability combination I gave hum sort of solved the problem.
Out of all of them, my favourite to design was Pain. The main reason was that it was just so simple, yet so deep. He was a hulking, stitched up brute, who was incredibly smart, but incredibly basic. I liked that.
Origin of the Cadre
By Axelgear (http://www.giantitp.com/cgi-bin/yabb/YaBB.pl?action=viewprofile;username=Axelgear)
It is a well known fact, at least to some, that there are other worlds beyond our own. Other planes, other orbs of existance. Sometimes, these worlds come into brief contact with our own, ours leaving our mark on theirs, and theirs leaving a little piece behind in ours. One such piece were 25 shards of the Coat of Sanity, a large, duster-like cloak, white with a winding vine-like design in grey all over it. These pieces scattered all over the globe, and slowly were drawn together, four coming together in concentrations of five, five, five, and ten. These formed into Fear, Pain, Disgrace, and Loathing respectively. Absorbing the strongest energies they could percieve around them at the time, emotion, the masses of shredded fabric took form as manifestations of each.
A dying Eastern Lord brought terrible disgrace to his Samurai, their failure leaving them without honor. Disgrace took form from that point, his scarred bone face taking shape as the elderly man roasted away in a fire, his long tendrils taking form from the streams of blood that left the Samurai, as they took their own lives in Hari-Kari, the honorable death with their master being their final duty. Disgrace was immediatly born from the flames and shot into the darkness of night.
A young child running through the woods brought Fear life, as the outstretched limbs of the trees and their gnarled bark seemed to form terrifying faces, the thunder overhead completing the terror as a bandit caught the child. Fear emerged from the tattered rags in the mire that formed on the roadside. His spiney face came from the childs imagination, armor-plated skin and steel-strength bone snapped as they broke and reshaped themselves, until taking shape. Fears first words came immediatly then, his long, razor tongue moistening his lidless eyes. The bandit had no time to yell as Fear ripped the flesh from his face, and disembowled him and his horse, the child dissapearing into the night. Fear had tasted blood, and fear itself. He adopted his namesake, and left to hunt down his ulterior prey.
A torture chamber was the most apt place for the creation of Pain, and the end result of week-long tortures, ended only by the smell of gangrene that displeasured the cruel tyrants nose, awoke something in the tattered rags that the corpse wore. Stitched together pieces of the coat forced the person to rise, entering the form, the stitched closed wounds, salted and blooded, and large helm sealed to the flesh created a terrifying figure as it grew to massive proportions, oozing puss from its infected wounds. The torturers creation was the pinultimate result of their art, and had they not spent the next eleven days chained to the walls, suffering unimaginable pain, they may have been quite proud of it. Pain broke free after, and sought his way to his brethren.
Loathing was the most powerful of the creations, and aptly so, as there is little stronger a feeling than hate and loathing bred between one person and his enemy. Loathing was born on the battlefield, rising on the fifth day between a war of two nations that spanned more than a century. Rising in the winds of night over the writhing masses of soldiers near death, Loathing was born of the hate that left their body. A dying soldier hates no more, and Loathing alleviated them of this excess hatred. He also tore the life from their body. The terrible screams heard for miles were him unleashing his full potential. King of Hate and Master of Shadow, Loathing leads the Cadre of Suffering with an iron fist, his deadly potential fully realized, and he has no mercy for any living creature in his path.
Images of the Cadre
http://img289.imageshack.us/img289/7529/mgcadre9pf.png
http://img289.imageshack.us/img289/7529/mgcadre9pf.png
A couple months ago, a friend of mine came up with a group of bad, nasty guys for a comic he had created, and asked me to give them a little more depth. He needed that depth in order to have a limit to what these bad guys could do, so I created these monstrosities.
After a few days of 2am labour and revising, I came up with some stats reflecting them. Loathing and Pain were easy enough, because they were pretty basic in their concept. Disgrace was a bit of a challenge, because the description I was given was incredibly vague and contradicting. At first Disgrace was big, then small, then all over the place. The ability combination I gave hum sort of solved the problem.
Out of all of them, my favourite to design was Pain. The main reason was that it was just so simple, yet so deep. He was a hulking, stitched up brute, who was incredibly smart, but incredibly basic. I liked that.
Origin of the Cadre
By Axelgear (http://www.giantitp.com/cgi-bin/yabb/YaBB.pl?action=viewprofile;username=Axelgear)
It is a well known fact, at least to some, that there are other worlds beyond our own. Other planes, other orbs of existance. Sometimes, these worlds come into brief contact with our own, ours leaving our mark on theirs, and theirs leaving a little piece behind in ours. One such piece were 25 shards of the Coat of Sanity, a large, duster-like cloak, white with a winding vine-like design in grey all over it. These pieces scattered all over the globe, and slowly were drawn together, four coming together in concentrations of five, five, five, and ten. These formed into Fear, Pain, Disgrace, and Loathing respectively. Absorbing the strongest energies they could percieve around them at the time, emotion, the masses of shredded fabric took form as manifestations of each.
A dying Eastern Lord brought terrible disgrace to his Samurai, their failure leaving them without honor. Disgrace took form from that point, his scarred bone face taking shape as the elderly man roasted away in a fire, his long tendrils taking form from the streams of blood that left the Samurai, as they took their own lives in Hari-Kari, the honorable death with their master being their final duty. Disgrace was immediatly born from the flames and shot into the darkness of night.
A young child running through the woods brought Fear life, as the outstretched limbs of the trees and their gnarled bark seemed to form terrifying faces, the thunder overhead completing the terror as a bandit caught the child. Fear emerged from the tattered rags in the mire that formed on the roadside. His spiney face came from the childs imagination, armor-plated skin and steel-strength bone snapped as they broke and reshaped themselves, until taking shape. Fears first words came immediatly then, his long, razor tongue moistening his lidless eyes. The bandit had no time to yell as Fear ripped the flesh from his face, and disembowled him and his horse, the child dissapearing into the night. Fear had tasted blood, and fear itself. He adopted his namesake, and left to hunt down his ulterior prey.
A torture chamber was the most apt place for the creation of Pain, and the end result of week-long tortures, ended only by the smell of gangrene that displeasured the cruel tyrants nose, awoke something in the tattered rags that the corpse wore. Stitched together pieces of the coat forced the person to rise, entering the form, the stitched closed wounds, salted and blooded, and large helm sealed to the flesh created a terrifying figure as it grew to massive proportions, oozing puss from its infected wounds. The torturers creation was the pinultimate result of their art, and had they not spent the next eleven days chained to the walls, suffering unimaginable pain, they may have been quite proud of it. Pain broke free after, and sought his way to his brethren.
Loathing was the most powerful of the creations, and aptly so, as there is little stronger a feeling than hate and loathing bred between one person and his enemy. Loathing was born on the battlefield, rising on the fifth day between a war of two nations that spanned more than a century. Rising in the winds of night over the writhing masses of soldiers near death, Loathing was born of the hate that left their body. A dying soldier hates no more, and Loathing alleviated them of this excess hatred. He also tore the life from their body. The terrible screams heard for miles were him unleashing his full potential. King of Hate and Master of Shadow, Loathing leads the Cadre of Suffering with an iron fist, his deadly potential fully realized, and he has no mercy for any living creature in his path.
Images of the Cadre
http://img289.imageshack.us/img289/7529/mgcadre9pf.png
http://img289.imageshack.us/img289/7529/mgcadre9pf.png