#malyce

[campbluelake]

Then fight until you deserve to win.

Though Vual had grabbed Malyce by his very muscle fibers and puppeteered him, every nerve in his body was still his own. The kicks and swings and slices still made contact with him, and set his body on fire. This was Hell, and this was his penance. His mind writhed as he struggled to break free from his prison. Vual had his soul, and now he can never be free. 

Was this the price of power? Of fame? Something so pathetic... All Malyce wanted, all Marion wanted, was someone to see him and truly understand him. He thought for a long time that fame was the answer to his loneliness. If millions of people adored him, then that means at least one person out there in the sea of souls loved him. Truly loved him. 

But fame wasn't love. It wasn't even close. He never felt so happy he could run laps around a camp because of fans. He never cried because seeing fans fall in love and find happiness. Adoring viewers never warmed his heart and made him feel like he was home. That was love, and even if he never sees them again, Marion Faustino loved the counselors of Camp Blue Lake. Each and every one of them. 

[♫♫♫]

With every attack to his body, Malyce's soul grew stronger. The twitch of a fingertip was the start, but then he could feel his body react to his own mind. His own thoughts became his own actions, and eventually, his voice became his own again. 

"We're fucking done here, you conniving, cruel, manipulative, and shallow son of a BITCH!" 

Malyce cries out, reaching clawed hands into his inky black face. He grabs hold of something, and begins to wrestle it from him. 

"I love everyone here, including Abbie! Fucking sue me!" 

Vual grunts in frustration at the rebellion, sending jabbing pain all throughout his body. Not only physical, but psychological. Years of rejection, pain, abuse, and neglect all relive themselves in the matter of seconds as Malyce screams in pain. 

"My body is not yours to control! My soul is not yours to own! No one here is ever going with you! When I leave this place..." 

The world seemed to distort around Malyce as his fingers dig deep into his own face, improbably so. He finds the one he once called master. The Duke that called him a genius, and a prodigy. For a long time, Vual was one of the few who made Malyce feel like his hard work paid off. Now he realizes it was all a Demon's trick. But Malyce won't be so easily tricked anymore. A gloved hand leaves Malyce's body, pulling the black ink with it. 

"... I'm taking everyone with me!" 

Malyce slams down the figure to the ground, howling in pain from severing his entire being from the demon. The ink begins to melt away as the true form takes shape.

"And that includes Abbie, you fuck!" 

The demon duke stands from where he had been ejected, and you’re able to see your true enemy for the first time. A great, towering figure with the body of a man but the head of a camel stands before you all as he brushes the dirt off of his suit. His expression is that of immense displeasure, and a sneer grows on his face. If you didn’t know better, you would even say that there might be…fear?

“Traitorous thing! I give you all you have ever longed for, and you treat me this way!? You would leave Abigail for the likes of these humans?!”

A scoff.

“Very well, then, slithering, treacherous thing. You shall meet your end in the same manner that the other ilk will.”

The man(?) turns to face you all, fury etched cleanly on his face. Like a loyal dog, Eve rushes to his side, crouching down low and baring her teeth as her wings flare out behind her. His hand raises and points towards you, counselors. Though you have fought hard, it appears this may be the end.

“Now, submit to the flames--”

[aces-to-apples]

Dragon Age Worldstate Meme

Template by @omgkalyppso

[blisterinballista]

nobody tell a certain organization but things are gonna get real fucky wucky over here real soon ish, probably

[radical-ghostface]

Malyce Gaunt and Cassiopeia Malfoy drawn by the always lovely @yoshitsuno 💕🫶🖤

Mal was created by me

Cas belongs to @maul.bean on Tiktok

[oc-smashorpass]

Malyce is a dwarf player character from the Dragon Age franchise. She's a member of the Carta (dwarven organized crime) and through a combination of shadiness, nosiness, and sheer dumb luck ended up as a kind of messianic figure to the local Fantasy Catholics (she is the only one pleased about this.

She's cunning, politically savvy, unflinchingly polite, and pragmatic to the point of absurdity. Her concept of ethics boils down to 'whatever makes The Business work best' and usually that's good wages and responsible leaders, but sometimes it's drinking from a magic well and submitting to an unknown magical geas because she's the most affordable loss and can be turned into a martyr to rally around. Her best friend is a scathingly snarky gay man who's a giant nerd doing his best to be less fantasy racist and she's calls everyone either 'love (affectionate)' or

'lovely (derogatory)'.

Character by @aces-to-apples !

Art by @sophronist !

[hellmouth-manor]

can't stab what's not there | alou | futility.5

Forgiveness?

Alou experiences a small prickle of ego at the word, for numerous reasons.

What wrong has he committed that even requires forgiveness?

What right has he accomplished that warrants it, either?

Both questions and their answers ring discordantly true and untrue to his own senses, and it rankles and it irritates like a splinter.

But he’s pulled out of his agitation when bright red blood wells up on Cu’s finger.

A small wound like this is the best sort of problem. The stakes are low. It’s easy to fix. The results are near immediate. Clean soap and water, a bandage, some pressure, and ointment– it’s a straightforward remedy, delivered swiftly and easily.

(But… it’s not that simple, is it.)

Any sign of favor would expand the gulf that already exists between Cu and the others. And as much as he values the young man’s loyalty, and the potential of his love, and the reassurance of his reliance– People are only as good as their connections. They grow from their interwoven stories. Their tragedies and happiness weave a design unlike any that could be artificially conceived. Even Alou still knows the value of that. Why else did he tell Poppy again and again– not to use him as a crutch. To seek out the support of others?

(Because he knows deep down he can’t give them what they need.)

Even in this, Alou presumes to act on what he thinks is best for them.

It’s all too complicated a problem. So he ignores Cu’s bleeding, even if one hand twitches with the desire to draw up a cloth at least.

“Of course we were. Or I’d like to think we could be. You’re the most important people in my life.”

‘Oh, give me a fucking break.’

Fuck. For maybe five minutes, he’d existed in a blissful world where Hisashi didn’t exist. Not that the sentiment didn’t extend to him, in a completely different way.

Alou lifts his chin even as Hisashi lashes him with his own spoken judgements. Each statement is a piece of himself, sharpened to a fine point and hooked into sentiments and feelings that had– over time– grown hazy and indiscernible under the patina of justification.

But… Yes, Hisashi was also one of the most important people in his life. He was a straw-man for the ugly, meaningless violence that Alou had always meant to conquer– If he could just transform it– 

Oh, it takes every ounce of willpower not to snap and tear the thorny rose of Hisashi Beaumont from limb to limb. But the beautiful destruction he wants to indulge in is the exact type of violence that disgusts him– no matter how poetically he flays the skin, no matter what flowers he chooses to grow in that cadaver, no matter the colors or the arrangement or the composition– it’s still what it is. His ego writhes under the laughter that peels away beautifully poised layers of presentation.

Are you saying we’re the same?

He almost makes the mistake of asking those words. But he is so, so afraid that they’re different, after all. Instead, he sits back in his chair.

“Did you know the imp king– Malyce– he was a player, once. Maybe it’s time for him to retire, too. Imp King Hisashi has a nice ring to it.”

Still, his voice drips with dissatisfaction. And he seems to be growing tired with this game. There’s less pretense as he picks up Poppy’s questions, happy to be moving on. Mask off, he rubs his forehead briefly.

“I was picked, and then I picked you in turn, with guidance from Louisa Nightingale. I relied on La Danse Macabre to bring forward the candidates they had both cultivated and found… You saw the boards for yourself. For some of you, the work began generations before you existed. For others, it started at the cradle. For the rest, the influence was… lighter, perhaps.”

Or hands off entirely, as would be the case for someone like Kamiya.

“But I’m the first game master–” nominee “--who was ever cultivated for the sole purpose of running this game. And you were all developed or gathered with that in mind. I may not have had a personal hand in designing your lives, but my existence alone shaped yours.”

Alou seems to be picking up momentum again, as if the act of hearing his own voice alone was revitalizing. Then suddenly– he stops. He takes a moment to register Poppy’s frigid attitude and recovered aplomb.

“Do you think I don’t know how to handle a little stab wound?”

[painted-on-personalities]

The only thing currently preventing me from being an axe murderer is not owning an axe.

[eternalprocrastinatingart]

Malyce and Brelynn as magical girls

[campbluelake]

While still man strives, still he must err.

[♫♫♫]

Watching the verdict roll in made Malyce turn his head downwards. The idea that everyone decided to leave was the right idea, but he can’t help but feel pain for Abbie. All she’s ever believed was that she was saving lonely souls. People who needed help, companionship, and love could finally be loved by her. 

To reject Eden is to reject Abbie’s love, and he knows it breaks her heart. He stands up from the swinging bench, following her as she walks closer to the others. His eyes were wide with worry, and sympathy to his friends. He wants them to leave more than anyone else here, but he also doesn’t want Abbie to be in pain. 

It wasn’t until Vual entered the scene and crept his saccharine words into her ears that he felt true fear. He spoke to Abbie in a way not unfamiliar to Malyce, himself. When he was faced with doubts and fears, Abbie reassured him of the “truth”, and comforted him. He saw it from an outsider’s perspective, blind to how convincing Vual’s words are to his friend. How can he stop this? How does he stop this..? 

“ABBIE, STOP!" 

Her body shifts and changes, and it’s clear to Malyce that she’s being manipulated by the demon that supposedly "loves” her. His body fills with fire as he watches her fall to Vual’s temptation. Her eyes don’t show even a shred of her humanity any longer. How dare the demon that claims to love her convince her to do something so horrible? To kill her own friends? People who love her? His fear is stamped out like a finished cigarette as he moves to stand before Vual. 

“How… DARE you! How dare you stand there and order your thrall to hurt these innocent people!”

Though not all of them are as innocent as one would believe, Malyce has faith otherwise. His eyes glowed green as he stared up at the demon only months before he was shaking the hand of eagerly. His voice was rough with pain, but he held himself together. 

“I am tired of hurting people! I am done with allowing this game to continue! These people fought long and hard to stand against you, and I should’ve followed their example a long ass time ago!”

A golden clawed finger jerks up to point at Vual, Malyce’s tears becoming steam as the heat in his heart radiates off of him. 

“I never owned these lives! They were never mine to take, and they aren’t yours, either! Tell Abbie to stand down! We are going to find another solution. I’m no longer going to play along. I don’t want our contract, and I’m going to do everything to break it. I will do everything in my power to help Niko and Max set these souls free. They deserve their freedom, and you deserve nothing!" 

The hungering one no longer desires the everything he once promised himself he deserved. He lowers his hand, eyes darting to the others, then to Abbie’s new horrific form. 

"Abbie! Abbie, snap out of it… We don’t have to fight anyone. No one has to die here, please! Please, we can’t be monsters…" 

Back to the others.

"Mercy, please! We don’t have to fucking fight! I’m going to figure something out!”

His heart trembled with uncertainty as he struggled to find a way to end this without Abbie hurting anyone, and no one hurting her in return.  

[♫♫♫]

The inky figure behind Abbie moves from her side to instead loom over Malyce, eyes downturned in fury. An incensed voice rips from his “throat”.

“Treacherous thing! Incapable of even satiating your own hunger without someone else to do it for you. Have I not given you everything you could have asked for? And you would abandon Abigail to defend from this siege on her own?

They will never grant you mercy, so it falls upon me to grant you mercy instead–the mercy of a lack of choice.”

A split second is all it took for Vual to grant his contractee the mercy he so begged everyone for. The man fought valiantly, but sometimes a soul is too broken and too weak to fight against anything. Especially the gifts of a Duke of Hell. Malyce had invited the demon into his heart countless times, and this time was no different. Malyce began to convulse, clutching at his throat as he feels something begin to close it. 

“No… Not like this..!" 

His voice squeaks out as he struggles to fight against the miasma that fills his lungs. Tears quickly became inky black as they pour down his cheeks. He suffocates, dropping to his knees, begging Vual to let him go, but nothing of the sort happens. He’s granted no mercy. 

Oh, insolent, misguided child of man, do you really think you can fight against me? 

A pressure is felt behind Malyce’s face as thick black ooze escapes from every pore. Malyce attempts to fight back as he drowns in Vual’s essence as it completely overtakes him. It doesn’t take long before a hellish burning is sent through his veins. Strings made of hellfire and magic snake through every cell in his body, thrashing him around, feeling like true suffering.

Airways finally clear as Malyce’s ear splitting screams escape his lungs, which are now saturated with the burning ooze. He begs in half formed words, his body twisting unnaturally, struggling against his unseen restraints. The uncomfortable sounds of limbs thrashing against the pavement, screaming, and choking finally stop as Malyce’s body lies still. Maybe it was over? 

Malyce’s body slowly rises to its feet, near invisible lines of magic emitting from it. The body faces the group of counselors, now, turning its head to reveal a dripping face of black goo, with bright white eyes, similar to Abbie’s. The eyes of Malyce(?) narrow, a frown evident on his face. 

“If that treacherous thing will not use his gifts to end your rebellion, I will.”

You, the counselors of Camp Blue Lake, stand unarmed against the forces of Hell itself. Though you have numbers easily on your side, there is only so much numbers can do to make up for the fact that these beings are built to kill and consume mortal souls such as yourselves. Some of your number have never partaken in combat, and you were expected to do so without even a weapon now?

Or…no. That’s not quite right. 

Around you, the world bubbles once again, and you steel yourselves for, what, more minimum wage demons to tear their way into this realm to add to the fight against you? But no. Instead, weapons make themselves manifest around you.

That’s right. This place was made to be an eternal paradise for you all, to provide you with whatever comfort would bring you the deepest happiness. It would make sense, then, that now, with her mind no longer its own and lying in tatters around her, Abbie’s magic wouldn’t know what to make of the situation any longer. If your happiness–your true joy–would be found outside, then it would grant your wish, even if she no longer would consciously do so.

Perhaps with hesitance or perhaps with enthusiasm, you materialize that which suits your fighting style best, and you prepare to show Hell precisely how feeble mortals like yourselves really are.

[aces-to-apples]

Just remade Malyce so I can play through her again plus finally do Trespasser before The Veilguard comes out in the fall

[blisterinballista]

anyway everyone, say hello to malyce,

(who is proficient in both ranged AND deranged combat)

[kingedwardvi]

xxixo September, ao iij. Regis E. vjti - Sir Rowland Hyll, mercer, mayour, ye 3 yere of Edward 6. [third year of King Edward VI]

“This yere ye iiijth of October ye lord protector & ye erle of Warwyke fill at controversye aboute ye reasonynge of certeyn things, & so ye erle of Warwyke wt other lordes of ye counsell assembled, & yt herynge the lord protector wt all spede departed from Hampton courte, & tooke ye kynge wt hym to ye castell of Wyndsore vppon ye sixte day of October at nyghte late, & gathered thyther moche people, & wt hym went ye archbishope of Caunterberye, sir Thomas Patchett, (fn. 14) & secretary Smythe: (fn. 15) 

wherfore ye lordes cam together vpp to London, as the lord chauncellor, (fn. 16) ye lord St John, lord grete master, wt dyuerse other of ye kynges counsayll, & satt at ye mercers hall in Chepesyde ye vijth daye of October: & ye viijth day of October ye said lord protector wt all hys complices was proclaymed a traytor in London for dyuerse causes then declared in ye proclamacion: 

& ye tenthe daye ye lord protector was comytted to ward in ye castell of Wyndsor, & after yt vppon Mondaye, beinge ye xiiijth of October, ye same lord protector was brought from Wyndsore vnto ye Tower throughe ye citye, & wt hym ye same tyme was broughte M. Stanhope, (fn. 17) grome of ye stole, & secretarye Smythe wt other: & after yt, vppon Thursdaye, beinge saynte Lukes eve, viz. ye xvij. day of October, ye kynges Mtie Edward ye sixte, accompanyed wt all ye nobilite came from Hampton corte vnto Suffolke place in Sothewerke, wher he dyned, & after dyner rode throughe ye citie vnto Westmester in moste goodly order.

Also be it remembred (fn. 18) yt vppon Sondaye, beynge ye xixth day of January, Ao R. E. vj.ti tertio, in ye evenynge after super betwene Newgate & Smythe filde one called commonly captayn Gambold, (fn. 19) & an other captayne wt hym called (fn. 20) were both slayne by one called captayne Charles, (fn. 21) whoo of very malyce & dispyte slewe ye same Gambold, & for ye same offence ye sayd captayne Charles had hys hand stryken off vpon ye carte whelle, wher in he wt iij. others (fn. 22) wt hym were caryed from Newgate, & vpon ye waye before ye kynges hedd taverne (fn. 23) lost hys hand, & so were they all iiij. hanged in Smythfeld ye Frydaye, next folowynge, which was ye xxv.th (fn. 24) of Januarye.

Also ye xxvj.th day of January, a.o iij.o E. vj.ti, foure westerne men, viz. one called Humfrey Arundell, a gentellman borne, one Berrys, (fn. 25) one Wynslowe, & one called Holmes (fn. 26) were drawn, hanged, & quartered at Tyborne from ye Tower of London for ye insurreccion made in ye west partes, as appeareth in ye yere before.

Also ye vj.th of ffebruary, a.o R. E. vj.ti, iiijto, the duke of Somerset, wh. as aforesayd beynge lord protector proclaymed traytor & commytted vnto ye Tower, was nowe delyuered out of ye Tower, & ye same nyghte supped wt ye erle of Warwyke at ye shreffes called mr. Yorke. (fn. 27)

Also vppon Mondaye,beinge ye tenth daye of ffebruary afforesayde, one Bell, a Suffolkeman was drawen from ye Tower vnto ye Tyburne, & ther hanged & quartred, which as they sayd was for a newe insurreccion, wh. he wt certayne other of his complyces moved in Suffolke & in Essexe. (fn. 27)

Also vpon Mondaye, beinge ye last daye of Marche, a.o R. E. vj.ti iiijto, a generall peace was proclaymed throughe London betwene ye kynge our M., & ye ffrench kynge, & in ye same peace were included themperor & ye scotes: (fn. 28) ye condicions of ye wh. peace as some sayd were thes yt followe. (fn. 29)

Be it remembred yt ye xxvj.th of Aprill, anno R. E. vj.ti quarto, ye towne of Bulloyne was yelden vp vnto ye french kynge, & hys capitaynes tooke ye possession, which was so greate comforte & joye to ye ffrench men, yt as some sayd at ye entrye in to ye towne many of them kneled downe & kyssed ye stones of ye stretes. (fn. 30)

Be it also remembred yt vppon ffryday, beynge ye seconde daye of Maye, one Joan of Kent, otherwyse called Joan Bocher, was borned in Smythfild for heresy, whose pryncrypall article was our saviour Chryst tooke nether flesh nor blood of ye vyrgyn Mary. (fn. 31)”

Link: https://www.british-history.ac.uk/camden-misc/vol12/no1/pp17-27#p1

[theshapeofagua]

so the book is called Malice and the main characters name is Alyce and people have nicknamed her Malyce because shes from a race of people called Vila who believed to be the villains of the realm like dhsjshshshhs okay this is camp

[lusus]

whos trolls are ur favorites?

srry it took me a while to get to this trying to type a bunch over mobile is rough and i just finally made it to my laptop... jeez tho i follow veeeeeeeeeeery few ppl but obviously i love!! everything!!! my friends make!!!!! so much!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

obvs i have to start w/ @metzer cause every character he makes owns my heart...!!!!! haro, forbid, luce, vanmai, zvi, legacy, malyce, duffy, outlaw, aramaz, opa.............. Everyone..... i want to pick them up and hold them in my arms and if that's how i die then i die. revs art and characters and A+++ DESIGNS bring so much joy to my soul and inspire me to keep making things all the time. i wuv. i cwy.

@askapo-asknelial doesnt post atm but i’ve been married to their trolls n art for so many years now i genuinely can’t imagine where this blog or half my characters would be w/out them wtf....... bruine, ginger, midas, sahrae, ashtin, famine, molene, angelus & semidea, darrel, gidget, inessa, obvs. nelial and apo...... so many hands to hold....!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

@fantrollclusterfuck more trolls i have loved very much for a long time......... ofiuca, betner, bhaluk, apophi!!! i would die for them all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

@maritimemelancholy luke isn’t a troll but shhhhhhh i love him w all my heart he more than deserves the mention....... i will kill for verena also... sadly i like florid.

@sasster *blows so very many kisses to koteus, alfie, lanaen, and thread* xoxo

@p1dge-ocs i love pathos bc i always love a bastard and i will die for pertie also truly

i have a few other friends whose trolls i love but they either don’t have fantroll blogs or don’t use tumblr at all but rest assured if u are my pal and u have shown me ur trolls: i love them!!!!!!!!!!!!

[deerlyloved]

Commissions

D'irte went running off into the woods as soon as they set up camp, with no armor and no weapons… Of course Malyce followed! The dwarf’s going to get herself killed! 

No she didn’t spend an hour watching her pick flowers, it was an hour of trying to get her to go back to camp! 

Silently. 

While not mentioning camp. 

And pointing out pretty flowers she’d like. 

[yblchth]

“It doth not suyt a Sum’nr of Devyls to speak on their Propertys, as those godsblood Fools who speak them into beyng must by varyos Means know their Nature as the Back of their Hand. But here I shall make a vayn Attempt for those who doth possess Wyts markedly Thin and Tyme markedly Lyttle, and thereon elaborate wythyn thys Tome.”

Let us begyn symply:

      “Fyrst, the Pallyd, also known as the order Cacodaemonya. The weakest of Devyls and, yea, the most numerous as well. The Pallyd Devyl posseseth a Body most fyne but he also possesseth a weak Intellect. Hys form doth resemble an Insect or other such crawylng thyng, hys Blood argent, hys Mask whyte or fayntly yellow. He is most suytable for Tasks menyal and of low complexyty. He feedeth on Blood and Livestock. Great Care must be taken for he is bydden to count any Item whatsover strewn before hym with a passyon most confoundyng.” - The Pale Devil

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     “Next I wyll speak on the Ymps, or Blue Devyls. Ymps are flymsy of Body but possesseth a Tongue most vyle and skylfull in the Art. The Blue Devyl possesseth Skin of nyght-hue, hyr Mask is royal, and hyr Blood is ebon. Ymps have a certyn Fondness for Lyquor and Vyce that suiteth a crafty Sum’ner well should he wysh to gayn Employment of these Fiends.” - The Blue Devil 

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      “Next I wyll speak on those Devyls most pryzed and sought by Kyngs, Rulers, and those Fools who clasp for earthly Power. The Crymson Devyl, or War Devyl, is massyve of Form and Syze and myddlyng of Wyts. Hys Flesh is ebon or royal, he is well Furred, hys Mask sanguine, his Blood ebon. He hath powerful Fangs, Horns, or other natural Weaponry for whych to dysmember his Enemeys, for the war devyl is extremely fond of Vyolence. He is greatly pryzed in thys Matter, synce for the pay of a few bottles of Lyquor or feeble Trynkets he wyll dysmember well-trained Soldiers from Dusk until Dawn for he does not partake in Sleep. A sum’ner may consyder hym a dull Creature until they fynd he has exployted some Loophole in theyr Contract and feasts upon their Entrayls.” - The Red Devil

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      “Next I wyll speak of the Verdant Devyl, or Dead Man’s Devyl as they are called. Hys Skyn is scaled or horned verdant, he carries the Vysyge of a Death’s Head, hys Mask verdant, and hys Blood thyck and argent. The Verdant Devyl is a remarkably strange Creature for he affects a certayn Languor whych could be mystaken for a lack of Motyve, hys blood is cold and he moves with Torpydyty. No Thhyng could be further from the Truth, for in hys Languor he collects many dire Secrets and has an insatiable Appetyte for Ruin. He is fond of Bargayns and lyes often. He wyll Peel a man lyke a Grape, should it please hym.” - The Green Devil

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      “Next I wyll dyscuss the Gylded Devyl, or Yellow Devyl as they are sometymes called. The Gylded Devyl has the appearance of one tall and shrouded, hyr Mask is Or, hyr Blood is Ebon. Hyr shryveled Flesh is sayd to have a certayn corpse-lyk Qualyty. Gylded Devyls are in Possessyon of the most terryfyng Intellect of common Devyls, and for thys reason Summoners are advysed agaynst attemptyng to bynd them. The Gylded Devil is fond of Moneys and other items of Wealth, she remembers Anythyng whatsoever sayd or seen, and she counts everythyng in metyculous Detayl. Moreover, she cultyvates a profound and honed Malyce whych she wylll not hesytate to turn on Mankind most cruelly.

      “I myself had an Apprentyce once who summoned one to take care of hys Book Keeping only to fynd to his great Dismay some Weeks later she had bought hym as a Slave.” - The Gold Devil

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“Fynally, I wyll speak on the Ebon Devyl, or True Devyl.

A Devyl when he is born as Pallyd has many hundreds of Names, none of whych are useful to hym, a method of his Bynding that gyves Shape to rawest Chaos whyle styll allowyng him to be controlled. As he grows older he makes secret Bargayns with Fools and finds clever ways to lop these Names off, and thus metamorphoses, changing Color and Shape most drastycally. Thus does the Pallyd become Blue, the Blue become Crymson, the Crymson become Verdant, the Verdant become Gylded.

An Ebon Devyl has but a syngle Name. There are but a few Dozen in all of Creation.

I wyll speak no further on the matter of Devyl Bynding for the Hour grows most late and a Chyll is settlyng up my old Spyne..” - The Ebon Devil (or) True Devil

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– Thulsa Drulle’s Daemonica Maleficum.