Old Scratch

[jeriendhal]

Thaddeus, Malakite of Destiny, IST Wind.

Corporeal Forces: 2, Strength 3, Agility 5

Ethereal Forces: 4, Intelligence 8, Precision, 4

Celestial Forces: 3, Will 6, Perception 6

Vessels: Tall, nearly gaunt man, with slicked back black hair and a Van Dyke beard, wearing clean but patched gentleman’s clothes and a stovepipe hat. Charisma +2.

Role: Professor Thaddeus P. Scratch, traveling salesman/2, Status/1

Skills: Detect Lies/6, Dodge/3, Emote/5, Move Silently/3, Chemistry/2, Fast Talk/6, Musical Instrument (fiddle)/5, Savoir-Faire/4, Large Weapon (Rapier)/2.

Songs: Healing (Corporeal, Ethereal)/4, Empathy (all)/4, Illusion (all)/3, Lightning (Corporeal)/2, Shields (all)/3, Numinous Corpus (claws, horns)/2.

Attunements: Malakite Destiny, Malakite of the Wind, Elohite of Destiny.

Oaths:

“Suffer not Evil to live, if it is my choice.”

“Never surrender or be captured by the forces of Lucifer.”

“Never cause permanent harm to humans by my actions.”

“Never allow hypocrisy to go unchallenged.”


“Good evening, madam! Allow me to introduce myself. Scratch is the name, Professor Thaddeus P. Scratch, maker of Scratch’s Wonder Elixir, which will cure all ills of the Body, the Mind, and the Heart! Forgive me for intruding upon you, madam, especially in this awful weather, but with your husband’s permission, might I make use of your barn to rest myself and my horses through the night?

You are a widow, madam? Forgive me for touching upon your grief. I assume your late husband fell in the recent War of Northern Aggression? I thought as much. A terrible thing when the flower of a great nation’s youth is lost in the fields of battle. And a terrible thing that you must tend this farm by yourself, without even your loyal bondsmen to aid you.

What? You would like me to come to dinner? Why, madam, it would not, I say, it would not be appropriate for me to dine with you unattended.

You say that does not matter to you? Why, madam, then who would I be to turn down such a generous, I say generous offer.”


Thaddeus has been working his schtick through the Appalachians and the Deep South for the past two hundred years or more, and he’s gotten quite good at it. Like any Windy (or like minded angel), he blows into town, stirs things up, then leaves again. The difference is that he comes in the guise of, well, Old Scratch. Y’know, Mr. Pitch, Hornhead… The Devil. Okay, okay, he never outright says he’s the Devil, but what are you supposed to think when a guy dressed in black makes you an offer for your immortal soul in exchange for your fondest wish, and he’s stinking ever so slightly of brimstone?

It’s all a scam of course. Thaddeus makes his offer, along with an ornate and completely bogus contract which has fine print no one ever reads (mostly because it’s microscopic), and gives the goods in the form of money, power, or whatever else the person wants (he draws the line at offering immortality. It’s darned hard to simulate, and besides the idea is supposed be that the signer gets to Hell eventually). Naturally what the person thinks they wanted most in the world either isn’t what they really need to be happy. And then they notice that Thaddeus seems to be making deals with all of his neighbors. And suddenly everyone grows terribly suspicious of everyone else. And before you know it, it’s up to a young hero and his best girl (or guy) to finally bring the town to its senses Before It’s Too Late.

And if along the way, everyone in town takes a good hard look at themselves and what they thought was important in their lives… well, Thaddeus considers being run out of town on the rails, just ahead of a pitchfork and torch wielding crowd, a sign of a job well done.