History

Born so long ago that the time of her birth is but myth and legend to most mortal beings, the infamous Thalan Wytch known as Nebbia Andranasta has woven a vile legend so steeped in sin that even the most iniquitous who serve the Dark Pantheon would blanche if they heard tell of her deeds. She is without a doubt, the most foul, evil, and blackhearted denizen of the Material Plane that is, has been, or ever will be.

Deep within what we have come to call the Age of Reverie is when we first find mention of Nebbia. Like so many Thalan, or Grey Elves as known by many mortal beings, before the coming of the Celestials she found her way into the service of one of the Firstborn. Specifically Ixiad, the Oath-Taker, Spider Dragon of Contracts. For they were both alike in many ways, and their skills and preferences complimented each other perfectly. Entire legions of bureaucrats worked together in seamless synchronicity at Nebbia’s call. Just as ants deliver food to their queen, so too did her servants deliver information and sealed contracts to the Firstborn who sat at the center of this byzantine web. Nebbia was the linchpin upon which Ixiad’s entire organizational operation rested, and as she was bound to Ixiad in both body and soul, the Oath-Taker trusted her implicitly.

However, Ixiad would come to curse the weakness that trust allowed.

For as the ages turned and the Celestials made themselves known to the Firstborn, what came with them was the sundering of the Dreamleaf, and in turn, the Thalan people themselves. Her perfect home, shattered. Her people, drafted into a war that was not their own to fight. Be it at the hands of the Gods or the talons of the Dragons, wherever the Grey Elves fought, they suffered. It seemed to Nebbia that the masters of her people cared not. Their great works were dashed, their unaging lives cut short, all for the glory of beings that did not truly deserve the sacrifices being laid upon their altars and shrines. Thoughts of doubt and rebellion poisoned her mind, and when the Hell King found her, she was all too willing to entertain his grim plan.

As the conflicts of the Age of Lucidity threatened the very existence of the Firstborn, many of them sought an edge to bring the emergent Gods to heel. Ixiad in turn saw promise in the strange, wandering monstrosity that was the future Hell King. His was a power nearly unequaled by all, but he was ignorant, bereft of purpose and knowledge. Ixiad changed all that.

She taught him of his nature and how to utilize the spirits he so desperately hungered for. More than that, she offered him demonic nobility to rule over by plucking seven red scales from her hide. Ixiad offered up the spirits of her mightiest champions, Thalan bound to these scales, and with Nebbia’s assistance twisted them into the first Demon Princes. Each of these spirits was imbued with a fragmented Axiom, a shattered part of the underlying arcane laws of creation. Where other Dragons or Gods thought these particular Axioms distasteful or without real use, Ixiad saw their potential and salvaged them after the Dreamleaf’s destruction. It is these seven Axioms of Corruption, Void, Pain, Misery, Perfection, Power and Destruction that the Demon Princes manifest, and it is these ancient concepts that inform and shape their every action.

In exchange for all that she had provided him, a pact was forged between the two. Signed in blood and enforced by powerful magic, the Hell King accepted a period of servitude and was bound to Ixiad’s will. For a time, he was content waging war with the Divine on her behalf. He and his legions of newly made Demons harvested the Angels and their Godly masters like so many bushels of wheat, and for a time this was enough. His hunger was sated, and his hordes glutted on violence and death, for none could truly stand against him. But as the Gods began to retreat into their planar boltholes, his mind began to wander. He never truly accepted the terms of his service, but against the constraints of the Contract Magic placed upon him by Ixiad, there was naught he could do. Only one close to Ixiad might free him from his bonds, for he and his children were forbidden to make any move against the Firstborn.

In Nebbia Andranasta, he found a kindred spirit of sorts. His child Beleth bin-Amon, the Demon Prince of Perfection, knew the deepest, darkest desires of her heart, and stole into her camp in the dead of night. On behalf of the Hell King, he offered her the one thing she wanted most: Freedom from the Gods, and severance from the Dragons. All she would have to do was break the pact between Ixiad and the Hell King.

Renewal of the contract was annual, and while Ixiad often withdrew from the Material Plane to her private demesne in the Far Realm, she regularly returned with the aid of her closest Knights to rejuvenate the contract’s magical terms.

When Ixiad was preparing to leave the Far Realm once again for that purpose, that is what she expected to see through that narrow portal. A hundred Dragon Knights wearing her colours, working the magics necessary to permit an immortal of her stature passage across the void between worlds.

This was not the sight that greeted her that day.

Instead, she saw only Nebbia, standing atop a veritable mountain of torn viscera and shattered bone, and through the rapidly weakening connection that they shared, she felt only hate. As the portal snapped shut and left Ixiad trapped in the Far Realm, Nebbia permitted herself a small smile as she felt the first of the Hell King’s gifts take hold. He granted unto her a mark upon her body. From this mark his power and essence did flow, and she was made to know then the powers of Wytchcraft. Together they reaped a bloody harvest of all that remained, with the few Gods that were left cowering behind the planar walls of their newly finished Heavens.

In time her mastery of souls, Deep Magic, and the Wytchcraft they fueled grew until it was matched only by the Hell King himself, who in turn graced her with the most significant reward he could conceive of:

His child.

Current Events

It is unknown exactly how or when the Church of Light managed to capture the Black Wytch. All that can be said for certain is that such a feat could not have come without a significant cost. For nearly three-thousand years she has been bound and kept alive in constant agony by the strongest willed of Citadel Inquisitors. While many did, and still do, advocate for her destruction, thus far the Citadel’s leadership has resisted these calls for final death. Nebbia Andranasta has been a direct witness to many great things, and her powers of past sight could further illuminate matters of great import; events the Church was all but entirely ignorant of. These sacrilegious histories collected during interrogation of the Black Wytch were collected in a series of tomes called “The Books of Vile Blasphemy” and kept under heavy lock and key. Excerpts were released in the year 2261, but the majority of their dark truths are still unknown to all, save the highest echelons of the Citadel’s leadership, and perhaps the Archbishop himself.

In the year 2264 on the 17th of November, the Black Wytch was seen for the first time in several millennia by nearly all of Arthos. Archbishop Roderick Hale, Head of the Church of Light, forced open every Skein Gate on Maud’madir with his unequaled Divine might. In front of hundreds of thousands of witnesses from all corners of the continent, he brought forth a blackened iron maiden, bound with chains and glowing with runes of pure Light. As it opened a frail, grey-skinned creature fell to the ground, her skin perforated by a hundred holes left by the spikes that had exited her flesh but moments prior. Before she could react, she was bound by a glowing golden collar linked to Hale’s most trusted servant, the Paladin Asher of the Dawn.

Soon after this binding, the Archbishop called down a mighty pillar of fire from heaven. Was this holy judgment meant for the Black Wytch, the most evil creature who currently drew breath on Arthos?

No, no it was not meant for her.

Instead, Hale brought an end to hundreds of Elves, most of them innocent souls who had survived the fall of the High Elven Nation of Suvant, and even a few repentant Ice Elves who sought L’lyandra’s forgiveness. All of that Elven death at once could have but one response: The summoning of the Mortigeist. Hale knew he was coming, and had made arrangements for his arrival.

As the Mortigeist went to begin his dance of death, Asher of the Dawn barked a command. The golden chains that now draped the Black Wytch’s body pulled her upright, and accursed words of Deep Magic began to tumble from her desiccated lips. The Mortgeist fought with a fury and skill unmatched by any of the Church Guard who stood before him, but even that was not enough to avail him his freedom. A mere foot away from escape back into his demonic principality through the rift he arrived in, the spell of the Black Wytch took hold, paralyzing him before another golden collar was placed upon his neck by Asher. A Demon Prince and Fallen Archangel was now bound to the will of Archbishop Roderick Hale, forcing the Mortigeist’s many shadows across Arthos into one singular form, and binding his now mortal body to the Material Plane. Before the scene playing out within the Skein Gates was ended, the last thing many saw was the Black Wytch forced back into her prison of pain.

While little has been said of the Black Wytch since that fateful day, recent leaked scouting reports from the Imperial Legions of Berphaunt have mentioned the very same iron maiden being led out from Castle Lightguard in Tiefanue. It is watched by Asher of the Dawn and her most trusted Inquisitors at all times, and is wrapped by chains of glowing Light Magic that emanate from a rotating array of Lightweavers that chant at all hours of the day. Their course has them set along a northerly path, but none can ultimately say what their final destination may be.