![]() ![]() Those who refuse to bend to righteousness-or worse, who hold their own visions of righteousness-are exiled to the burning hinterland. All who refuse to bow to that law are rebels in the eyes of the empowered, and so must be outcast. In the home of the righteous, there must be a single law. “Surely you know there are angels as well as devils in Hell. My people are ascetics, the darkness our endless meditation.” To this end, my people voluntarily migrated to the one place in all existence where the body becomes muted, and voices, philosophies, and sensations are amplified. “My people seek to escape form, to escape prejudice, to escape all restrictions that wantonly encage us. Why do you dwell in such a terrible place? Your race hails from the Plane of Shadow. Surely my words are heresy in every faith where the blind follow the sighted, for I promise to reveal wonders inherent in every worthy soul, wonders the deities claim are theirs alone.” To reveal secrets of reality, rebirth, immortality, and divinity that no creature that calls itself ‘good’ would wish to see revealed. Something has told you that I am evil, and why wouldn't it? I seek to enlighten. “Pause to consider the source of that information. The fact that I exist to seek out such potential and help it flourish means that regardless of what you believe about such small words like ‘good’ and ‘evil,’ inarguably the cosmos has guided me to you, and as I believe in the power of that cosmos, I believe in you.” Conversely, I believe the multiverse blesses some beings with extraordinary traits, with the potential to do-to be-great things. I believe that some creatures are without significance and not worthy of my hand raised to save them. I perceive evil to be an artificial construct, a mere description created by frightened clerks so they can determine whether one’s actions fall within or outside their narrow visions for what reality should be. I've seen mothers who stole only to feed their children go to the gallows. I've seen holy men sacrifice innocents and be called saints. “Evil? Such a small word to sum up my people, our culture, and our millennia-old dogma. The following are just a few of the questions commonly put to kyton ostiariuses, and their well-rehearsed answers to each. As the reputation of the kyton race does not lead most mortals-even those with the most stained souls-to embrace the pain-tasters’ cruel mortal enlightenment, it falls to ostiariuses to turn minds against their own bodies, encouraging philosophies of suffering to take root and override their natural fear and revulsion of kytons’ so-called "gifts." To such ends, ostiariuses claim absolute openness with those they court, and deftly-supposedly candidly-answer even the most pointed questions about their insidious natures. Ostiariuses are infamous for their half-truths and honey lies. Regardless, anyone viewing a kyton’s features must make a successful Wisdom check or suffer a -1 penalty to initiative for 1-3 rounds from the shock. No one’s really sure whether this is an illusion the creatures create, or if it’s actually the dead person come to horrible “life” in the city of chains. Though all a berk can see is the lower part of the face, he can often reconstruct the rest of it. See, the kyton has a nasty habit of assuming the feature of a departed loved one or friend – or sometimes that of much-feared enemy. Some people might wish they hadn’t seen even that much. The only visible features on a kyton are its throat, its grimacing mouth, and occasionally one gleaming eye. The kyton’s head is also wrapped with chains, covering where the hair, eyes, ears, and nose would be on a normal humanoid. When a kyton raises its arms, a cutter can see dangling ropes of metal – chains studded with barbs, welded scraps of iron, and other small sharp implements. The body, arms, and legs are all tightly wrapped with smaller chains. They wear chains in lieu of clothing and armor, using this “apparel” as weapons. Kytons are humanoid, though it’s hard to tell if they’re human. A soul knows when he’s being stalked by one of these monstrosities if he hears tinkling chains and an accompanying malicious titter. They are the city’s constabulaly, ferreting out transgressors. Kytons are a race of creatures inhabiting the city of Jangling Hiter on the third layer of Baator. ![]()
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