Kyriotates
The Kyriotates have given up on 4/4 time altogether. The second-least divine
Choir, they are also the most fundamentally alien. They are collectives
of primal urges, briefly manifesting in borrowed flesh before moving on
to other hosts. Taken on their own terms, these rampaging discordians are
powerful forces that can be channelled in any direction -- but they also
illustrate all too well just how ephemeral reality can be.
Resonance
The Kyriotates' resonance is for multiplicity. Blessed with the ability
to control multiple vessels, yet seldom in the same body for as much as
a week, Kyriotates don't have a single self-image that is consistent enough
to use to craft their own unique forms like other angels. Instead they must
borrow the bodies of other living beings if they want to make their mark
upon reality.
While a body is possessed, its consciousness roams the dreamlands and will
have no memory of what befell its body during the divine takeover. Possession
ranges from one to six days, after which control of the vessel reverts to
the original owner. While not in a vessel, a Kyriotate has one day -- 24
hours exactly -- to roam the corporeal realm in his celestial form, searching
for another host. If he can't find one, he will ascend to Heaven . . . where
there will be a lot of explaining to do. To avoid this, many Kyriotates
have a close-knit group of sympathetic servants, human or otherwise, who
take turns being ridden by these strange spirits.
The Kyriotates represent the
Symphony on a very
primal level; they are incarnations of a deeper degree of complexity. Of
the other Choirs, Cherubim appreciate Kyriotates the least. While they're
both guardians after a fashion, valiant spirits of animal nature, Cherubim
consider Kyriotates far too cavalier with their host bodies and wildy irrational
in their reasoning. Cherubim barely restrain themselves from verbal abuse
when discussing Kyriotates. On the flip side, the single-minded devotion
that is the hallmark of the Cherubim continues to puzzle Kyriotates, but
they decline to take Cherubic criticism personally.
Strangely, as polar opposites on the objective/subjective scale, the Kyriotates
get along very well with Elohim, and vice versa. Elohim love hearing about
all the different perspectives a Kyriotate runs across in his wanderings,
and Kyriotates love hearing Elohim struggle to be subjectively objective.
Dissonance
Though sworn to protect their hosts, Kyriotates invariably get into trouble
in their borrowed vessels. Kyriotates generate dissonance when forced to
leave a body in worse shape than they found it -- those of this Choir who
Fall become some of the most perverse celestial beings, the Sheddim. The
closer a Kyriotate comes to the day he must leave his vessel, the more careful
he tends to be with it. Most Kyriotates learn the Song of Healing at a high
level as a security measure.
Manner and Appearance
The Kyriotates are very smooth characters, at home in almost any vessel
after countless years of surfing an ocean of flesh. They are always relaxed,
dressed casually and comfortably, but quick to act.
In their celestial forms, Kyriotates are multi-colored clouds of random
limbs, mouths, and eyes that pulse to the beat of no particular drummer.
Humans who see a Kyriotate unclothed by corporeal skin have been known to
go mad; those who remain sane may pray for the refuge of insanity.
Having abandoned standard musical notation, they prefer improvisational
woodwinds, whether it be the flatness of a clarinet or the piercing drive
of a flute.
Though they've been in more bodies than socialites have clothes, Kyriotates
manage to hold on to the threads of what make them uniquely themselves.
They prize their subjectivity. Without any other constants in life, it's
the only thing they've got.
Kyriotate Game Mechanics
Choirs of Angels --
Seraphim
|
Cherubim |
Elohim
|
Malakim |
Mercurians
|
Grigori