The Dmon
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The Tempters, the Destroyers, the Bringers of Pain
Self-Name: D'mon (singular), D'mon (plural), D'monic (attributive)
Emotional Affiliation: N/A (not part of the Wheel)

In their misbegotten arrogance, the Races of the Wheel consider themselves the firstborn of the world.

The are fools.

The D'mon were. The D'mon are. The D'mon will be.

Some scholars believe the D'mon are the gods' first attempt at creating life, a flawed and unutterably corrupt species that predates the dzuun, ben'dai, drychi, chalna, orqs and urmun, Others decry this as heretical, saying instead that they are evil spirits sent to waylay and torment the faithful as a test. The D'mon themselves state that they are the rightful rulers of the world, and will purge its infestation of lesser races like a tide of molten brass.

For aeons, the D'mon slumbered, enervated or imprisoned in Du'Zhayatan (elven for 'the Accusation'); a spire-fortress miles high, thrusting up from the equatorial desert like an angry finger. Its towering chambers are filled with the manaforges, soul-armouries and torture gardens - the many, well-stocked, well-used torture gardens - of the incomparably sadistic sultans, beys and emirs of the D'mon hierarchy and their monstrous servants and armies. The were awakened only a century or so ago by a foolish elf explorer, Taleskiar Far-Walking who breached the wards and stirred the foul memories of the inhabitants. Now the D'mon walk again, and gaze down from their tower in spite and hunger.

The D'mon are creatures of mana given form, ageless but destructible. They are supernatural energy, not flesh and blood, though this does not seem to stop them from having desires and lusts like mortals - albeit twisted, unwholesome ones. The most powerful, high ranking D'Mon wield magic and martial might that surpasses that of almost any contender, and countless millennia of cunning and malice. Enchanted weapons and are more effective than mundane ones, which barely scratch them, and scyntium burns them terribly. Because they are comprised of mana, it is possible for sorcerers to summon, bind, and even use D'mon as an energy source or a powerful but treacherous servant. The idea of being rendered down into mystical energy is the one thing that makes a D'mon pale, and they will use all their fiendish strength and guile to avoid that fate and trap the summoner themselves.

Through force and deceit, the D'mon seek to capture 'the races of the Wheel' and drag them back to Du'Zhayatan. This is, quite literally, a fate worse than death, for the D'mon have developed a technique whereby a mortal soul can be smelted down to pure mana, through prolonged and repeated sessions of excruciating, harrowing torture. This rendered energy, rich with the essence of pain is then consumed by the sultans to increase their power, doled out to followers, or forged into cruel weapons and cunning apparatuses. Being torn down to mana is an unending, agonising doom combining the worst aspects of oblivion and eternal suffering.