Archons

Petitioners are the souls of mortals brought to the Outer Planes after death in order to experience their ultimate punishment, reward, or fate. A petitioner retains fragments of its memories from life, and its appearance depends not only upon the shape it held in life but also upon the nature of the Outer Plane to which it has come.

In the celestial realm of Heaven, The Elect shine with an ethereal glow. They retain a semblance to their mortal selves but are distinguished by their golden halos and majestic feathered wings. Serving dutifully in heavenly tasks, these noble souls aspire for more. With dedication and purpose, they can rise higher, eventually joining the ranks of the revered archons.

Though counted among the least of the archons, harbingers nonetheless remain steadfast in their dedication to combating evil. These tiny beings serve as heralds and assistants for the forces of Heaven. While on the Material Plane, they advise mortals on how best to serve the causes of order and light. Some even venture to the other Outer Planes as minor ambassadors. Harbingers can also be bound into service as familiars, a role they accept eagerly, taking full responsibility for guiding their masters’ souls toward salvation. A spellcaster must have the Improved Familiar feat, a lawful good alignment, and be an arcane caster level of 7th or higher to gain a harbinger familiar. A harbinger resembles a whirling mechanical model of a planetary system. Its sun, moons, and planets are crafted of tiny glowing jewels whose color shifts with the harbinger’s mood. Electric arcs and sparks of magical essence dance between its whirling pieces. The harbinger can dismantle itself into its component parts to squeeze through tiny gaps, its rings dissolving into glowing vapor while its star and planets remain. Harbingers shed light as brightly as a torch under normal conditions, but can dim to a faint glow if desired, and frequently spin off bits of their essence into dancing lights. A harbinger archon’s voice resembles the ringing of a dozen tiny bells, and regardless of the language the archon speaks, it retains that tinkling musical quality. Most harbinger archons form from souls that led simple lives of wisdom and piety before their deaths. They remember nothing of their mortal existences, but retain a decidedly practical, if parochial, view of worldly matters. Only rarely does a harbinger want for a parable or proverb apropos to the task at hand.

Friendly and curious beings, lantern archons eagerly converse with and assist other creatures. Their bodies, however, are merely globes of spiritual purity and pale light, and though they might interact with their surroundings through pure force of will, such interaction proves too weak to help with most physical tasks. Their evasive natures make them exceptional at scouting—at least in areas where strange lights aren’t unusual—relaying messages, and overwhelming enemies with surprise and group tactics. Although they appear fragile, their forms guard them against all but the most profane attacks. A lantern archon always glows, usually as bright as a torch. They have total control over the color of light they shed, and take great pleasure in modulating their colors and brightness in time to music or to entertain other creatures. Most lantern archons speak in airy, echoing voices, with tones that range from somber whispers to hurried chirping. Often, their light fluctuates along with their words or tones, punctuating their speech with sparks of light or gentle pulses. As a swift action, a lantern archon can dampen its light to that of a candle for 1 round. Only death can extinguish this light. As lantern archons never sleep or eat, they make excellent watchers and guardians. Lantern archons light many settlements in the celestial realms in lieu of mundane or magical illumination, serving as disguised sentinels always watchful for approaching evil. Small but fast and zealous, lantern archons make excellent support troops in celestial armies, swarming over weak opponents or teleporting en masse to flanking positions to cut off reinforcements or escape routes. These miniature archons work well together and know that there is great strength in numbers, uniting in times of need and desperation to form gestalts with greater control over their surroundings. Especially brave lantern archons might eventually be promoted into a more powerful kind of archon, but most are content with their status.

Hound archons look like well-muscled humans with canine heads typically resembling those of noble-looking wolves or dogs. Well trained, they prefer to make use of their greatswords in battle, though they are equally adept with their natural weapons. Hound archons loathe killing mortals and prefer to disarm or incapacitate even evil individuals when they can. Against fiends and the irredeemably corrupt, though, they show no mercy. Hound archons are disciplined soldiers and sentinels. Occasionally good-aligned deities send them to watch over specific places and individuals they take a particular interest in. Under the guise of unassuming but friendly strays, such secret defenders might follow their ward or guard their post subtly for years. In Heaven’s armies, exceptional hound archon paladins lead their fellows into combat, taking on roles as captains and knights. They lead incursions against fiendish holdings, whether that entails strikes against daemonic fortresses or liberating the captives of night hag soul collectors. Such missions make hound archons perhaps the most likely celestials one might encounter upon the Lower Planes, and packs of swift-moving wolves occasionally reveal themselves to be welcome saviors to those lost within such realms. Regardless of their orders, hound archons universally exhibit a particular hatred of canine fiends, abandoning all mercy and going out of their way to put an end to the evils of barghests, glabrezus, yeth hounds, and similar depraved outsiders.

Where shield archons are the bulwarks of the armies of Heaven, legion archons are the swords, sent in file after file to match evil’s boundless hordes. Legion archons stand 6-1/2 feet in height and weigh 200 pounds. Beneath their helmets and armor, they have pale or nearly jet-black hairless skin. Their eyes burn bright with the flames of their faith, flaring brightest when they conjure forth their weapons. Regardless of the armor they choose to wear, their metallic wings merge with and extend beyond the armor, allowing them flight even when wearing the heaviest of protection. Despite their warlike mien, legion archons prefer errands of peace and mercy. Their masters dispatch unarmed legion archons as celestial envoys, though still clad in their heavenly armor. In this fashion, they spread the word and love of Heaven to widely scattered realms.

In Heaven’s war against Hell, the argent wardens are always present. Each a suit of armor given life in celestial forges, the argent wardens are constructed to oppose diabolism.

Shield archons are the mighty rocks of celestial armies, withstanding waves of demons and devils without complaint. Though more than capable of tearing apart lesser demons and devils, their true strength lies in their ability to shrug off deadly attacks from superior opponents, giving their offense-oriented allies time to flank and overwhelm their mutual foes. Shield archons are 9 feet tall and weigh 800 pounds.

Exscinders are Heaven’s censors, scouring the planes for texts containing information too evil or dangerous to be allowed to exist. Exscinders care little for individual lives or everyday heresies, remaining staunchly focused on protecting mortalkind as a whole from corruption.

Messengers of good deities and mighty celestials, trumpet archons serve as the vanguard of divine armies and rally the legions of heaven to war. When lawful good deities have the need to communicate directly with a group of mortals, they often send trumpet archons to act as their intermediaries. Trumpet archons speak with clear, musical voices. Their otherworldly eyes are white and pupilless. All trumpet archons carry a gleaming magical trumpet or horn with which they create wondrous music, sound calls to other archons, paralyze enemies, or defend the virtuous. They typically adorn their trumpet with the standard of their liege.

Paradise dragons create holy sanctums of light and harmony to shield their followers from the multiverse’s evil.

Gate archons stand in silent vigils over interplanar portals.

Star archons are the tacticians and strategists of Heaven. Gifted with insight and powerful magic, they spend much of their time steering long-term plans for Heaven’s armies and good folk in the world.

Though bastion archons are among Heaven’s most powerful defenders, their formation results from the intertwining of lesser archons, starting with the least of them all, lantern archons. Rarely, when a group of at least nine lantern archons is turned back by an overwhelming invading force of fiends, the group can use their gestalt ability to form a whirling globe that stands its ground. This brave act of defiance usually lasts only half a minute, buying the lantern archons’ allies time to escape before the gestalt is overcome. In such dire situations, a nearby shield archon—a combatant of Heaven more suited to serving as a bulwark against tides of evil—can transpose itself with the squad of lantern archons, using teleportation to take their place. But this interaction of abilities has unpredictable outcomes, and rarely, rather than swapping places, the two entities meld in a brilliant flash of light that sends nearby evil outsiders reeling, leaving a crater with a nascent bastion archon lodged in its center. The bastion archon is initially stuck in the ground where it formed, but it retains many of its component creatures’ defensive and offensive abilities. If it survives, it eventually pulls together a huge, four-armed body from the surrounding terrain until it is clad in the stone of the Holy Mountain itself, in the process becoming infused with power greater than that of any other archon. A fully formed bastion archon stands 30 feet tall and weighs 15 tons.

Even after a bastion archon has freed itself from its creation crater, it rarely moves far, preferring to defend the place that was once so nearly overcome by invading forces. Indeed, convincing a bastion archon to abandon its self-selected post is so futile that “trying to budge a bastion” is a common phrase in Heaven for attempting the impossible. However, there have been a few rare instances when a particularly large crusade into Abaddon, the Abyss, or Hell has prompted a bastion archon to serve as a forward base for the forces of Heaven, helping establish a formidable foothold that requires a truly terrible counteroffensive to uproot.

Ragathiel is the son of the archdevil Dispater and a demigoddess of flame. He rejected his father’s evil, losing his sixth wing to the archdevil’s wrath, and escaped to Heaven, where he spent several millennia attempting to prove himself to the heavenly hosts and the other empyreal lords. Though many empyreal lords still find him far more bloodthirsty than they would prefer, the many centuries have proven Ragathiel’s honor, loyalty, and determination time and again, and the other empyreal lords have come to trust his word completely. Now Ragathiel leads the war against Hell as the General of Vengeance. He is not content to plan from the sidelines and allow his forces to succeed or fail on the strength of his strategies alone. Instead, he leads by example from the forefront of his army, a shining figure of golden flame daring any foe to confront him and hewing through the ranks of devils to create a vulnerable area in the otherwise perfect infernal formation where his own armies then strike. Thus far, his strategy has served him well, as the archdevils prefer self-preservation to risking themselves in a direct confrontation with the General of Vengeance—but it won’t take too many more successful forays before Barbatos moves to take decisive action, possibly bolstered by the forces of Ragathiel’s father, Dispater.  Ragathiel’s domain is a magnificent, towering fortress of steel and silver that stands upon the lower slopes of Heaven. The domain is simply named Ragathiel’s Fortress, as the General of Vengeance has no use for a fancier appellation. There is beauty to be found in the fortress’s design, but it is the sort of beauty and elegance of design and functionality that would be lauded by engineers and military tacticians, rather than artists and poets; Ragathiel specifically built his fortress to withstand a thousand-year siege and prevent ingress into Heaven for that entire duration, even by hosts of enemies that, like most evil outsiders, have access to teleportation magic.

RAGATHIEL’S FAITH
Ragathiel’s worshipers number among them crusading knights and soldiers for justice, as well as oath-takers and those who have been grievously wronged by evil and now seek righteous vengeance. His followers must deal with the fundamental paradox of his faith: unlike those who worship forgiving empyreal lords such as Arshea or Korada, Ragathiel’s chosen fight against evil foes unwaveringly and usually without offering second chances, and yet the General of Vengeance rose to his place from the depths of Hell itself. Most worshipers don’t see this as hypocrisy but rather as a sign that the impetus for redemption must come from the former sinner, and even then not merely as an excuse to escape punishment for their sins. Thus, they don’t take the initiative to offer opportunities for redemption to evildoers, but they listen carefully, if skeptically, to any who come seeking such a chance. For his part, Ragathiel empathizes with the moral dilemmas of his followers, as he constantly struggles with his own darker impulses. Thus, while he is unforgiving to his foes, he is particularly forgiving when it comes to lapses of judgment from his followers, allowing a wrathful paladin atonement when others might not. Certain other faiths are quick to interpret this willingness to “bend the rules” for certain circumstances involving paladins who, perhaps, go too far in pursuing their faith’s goals as weakness in Ragathiel, and worry that there may be a little too much of his diabolic father lingering in his veins. Ragathiel has little need for pomp and circumstance in his worship, favoring utilitarian places like battlegrounds, fortresses, and war rooms as sacred spaces.  Ragathiel’s holy symbol is a bastard sword across a crimson wing. His favored weapon is the bastard sword. His clerics have access to the domains of Destruction, Good, Law, and Nobility, and the subdomains of Archon, Judgment, Martyr, and Rage.

Also known as the Cardinal Martyr, Vildeis endlessly sacrifices herself in penitence for the sins of the multiverse, every battle against evil giving her body one more wound with which she might shed bloody tears for existence. When Vildeis emerged from the Heavens, she was a being of sublime beauty, but of a majesty so delicate that she couldn’t suffer the sight or even the thought of evil. Within an hour of her birth, she had put out her own eyes, refusing to even gaze upon a reality tainted by sin. Since the first self-inflicted wound marred her once-perfect body, she has struggled against evil in all its forms. Denying herself home or rest, Vildeis harrows the wildest reaches of the multiverse, driving back the expansions of foul realms and slaying those who would do wicked deeds. Vildeis has no home among the planes, and forgoes any comforts—even those as basic as shelter or company—so long as there is evil afoot in the multiverse. Such makes her one of the most aloof empyreal lords, but also one of the most storied. Across the planes, legends tell of pitched battles, desperate last stands, and near massacres turned in the favor of the innocent by the sudden appearance of Vildeis herself, bloody-winged and avenging. While such miraculous rescues have more to do with happenstance then omniscience, they nonetheless inflame the passions of the righteous across countless worlds. Those who seek to encounter the empyreal lord of devotion, sacrifice, and scars must follow rumors of her passing, usually spoken by awed beings and crippled fiends along the fringes of reality’s darkest outlands. Nearly as well known as the Cardinal Martyr herself are her morbid trappings—miles of stained bandages, scars etched and re-etched in the shapes of celestial runes, and a dagger that drips with her blood as often as that of her enemies. Of these, her dagger Cicatrix is the most infamous, a black blade like a thorn dropped from some gigantic iron rose, which the empyreal lord used to blind herself. Tales tell that she uses her blade not just to slay the wicked and share her blindness, but to carve the runes that crisscross her body upon others, infusing them with the compulsion to battle evil even if previously there was no such desire.

VILDEIS’S FAITH
Vildeis is the patron of devotion, sacrifice, and scars. Those who follow her number among the most zealous crusaders, the most unshakable priests, and the most incorruptible judges. They view their goddess as an exemplar and a leader who sacrifices for them in ways they can never match. Vildeis, and by extension her worshipers, is extremely strict when it comes to adhering to her tenets of living an austere and principled life wholly devoted to combating evil. Those who diverge from Vildeis’s teachings are expelled from her orders, but encouraged to do good in the world under the service of gentler masters. Though Vildeis doesn’t expect all of her followers to perform the same self-mortification that she does, tattoos, scarification, and flagellation are common among her servants, especially her most devoted priests. Even those who don’t engage in ritual bloodletting typically wear long red ribbons, symbolic of the empyreal lord’s eternal wounds. Vildeis’s holy symbol is a scarred golden breastplate. Her favored weapon is the dagger. Her clerics have access to the Destruction, Good, Healing, and Law domains, and to the Rage and Resurrection subdomains.