"EVERYBODY DANCE, EVERYBODY SING! PARTY HOLIC PARTY HOLIC HEDONISTIC!"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=il8YoDYh2Do
Appearing like a young petite child with some rather exotic clothing and two horns jutting out of her orangeish wild hair. Weighted chains and spikes adorn her, with a gourd attached to her hip. The gourd is nameless, but it is mighty, giving an infinite supply of beer, drugs, food, and more exotic things. Small, often underestimated, surprisingly good at holding her liquor, she is often spoiling for a fight. Immaculates tend to view her as less dangerous, only to regret their naivety.
It is said only in song and dance the yozis have no malice, and none seem to exemplify this more than Tenekel. The demon has no desire save to party, dance, drink, smoke, and everything else. Her parties are loud, chaotic, and often more resemble a rave. Tenekel sings and dances, and so great is it that others are dragged into her orbit. People, animals, furniture, tools, rivers, rocks. The air thunders with a cacophonous beat, and all are dragged in to the Eternal Celebration. Men with 2 left feet dance like masters. Women who have voices like crows sing like nightingales. Even inanimate objects join, dancing, striking one another to make a beat. The party goes on seemingly forever, sustained by the gourd. Fields lie fallow. Animals are untended. Fires rage out of control. Paperwork goes undone. Produce rots. Structures collapse from lack of maintenance. No one cares, entrapped within the Eternal Party, fed by the gourd. But over time, Tenekel grows bored, and travels somewhere else.
Then the consequences hit. At best the party-goers have the worst hangover of their lives and a crippling muscle soreness. Some were killed during the reverie, whether by overdose or being trampled to death, and only now are their deaths discovered. Tools are broken after being used as drums or dancing so hard they break. Fires still rage, devouring any who cannot move to save themselves. Some cities have starved after they realize they have neglected the harvest. Entire farming communities have been wiped out after all buildings have been swallowed by the wild during their party. Many are the people and families that have commited suicide, or faced disgrace, or have shattered, after realizing what they had done under the influence on drugs and alcohol.
And worse of all, is the gnawing desire to join the party, and the growing resentment at the more mundane drudgery and hard work that is part of life. Officials no longer work quite as hard. Smiths no longer work day and night to produce works. Mothers are no longer so devoted to feeding and raising their children. Farmers no longer toil so diligently. All remember the party, and all, in their souls, wish for it and more. Either way, communities begin to dissolve and weaken, no longer willing to put in the hard work and sacrifices to make life go on. Entire monasteries of immaculate monks have been broken by this, one Abbot having been found 20 miles away in an opium den, having pawned off the place's valuables for drugs.
Tenekel is the party, the dance floor, the reverie, and of course the splitting headache that comes after a hard night's drinking, and the dim realization that you shouldn't have taken those drugs with your friends. Of course the demon doesn't see anything wrong with it, seeing it as a natural consequence, not quite cognizant of the fact that most humans can't survive the things a demon lord can.
Besides, aren't more people happier without those 'responsibilities' and 'duties' they often talk about so much that stops them from having fun?
Sorcerers tend to summon her for many reasons. The most foolish, for the parties. Some use her more wisely, by summoning her for her gourd and bind her storytelling abilities. Her gourd can end droughts in entire regions by blasting out entire storm systems and river's worth of water, and end famine by creating a feast for entire cities. And some summon her to alter the landscape, by creating entire rivers of trees, of lava, of wind. And some, summon her for battle.
Tenekel tends to fight with her bare hands, sometimes using her fists and sometimes using the weighted chains on her as ranged attacks, though often she is hampered by her extreme intoxication. When truly angered or when ordered to, she unplugs her gourd and releases a veritable river of... whatever. This can range from wine, to water, to sandstorms, to lava, acidic spite, thunderclouds, swords, or in one rare occasion, dust mites.
Tenekel can enter Creation during Calibration, when a celebration is so large and sumptuous that not even deaths from rushed preparation will slow it down.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=il8YoDYh2Do
Appearing like a young petite child with some rather exotic clothing and two horns jutting out of her orangeish wild hair. Weighted chains and spikes adorn her, with a gourd attached to her hip. The gourd is nameless, but it is mighty, giving an infinite supply of beer, drugs, food, and more exotic things. Small, often underestimated, surprisingly good at holding her liquor, she is often spoiling for a fight. Immaculates tend to view her as less dangerous, only to regret their naivety.
It is said only in song and dance the yozis have no malice, and none seem to exemplify this more than Tenekel. The demon has no desire save to party, dance, drink, smoke, and everything else. Her parties are loud, chaotic, and often more resemble a rave. Tenekel sings and dances, and so great is it that others are dragged into her orbit. People, animals, furniture, tools, rivers, rocks. The air thunders with a cacophonous beat, and all are dragged in to the Eternal Celebration. Men with 2 left feet dance like masters. Women who have voices like crows sing like nightingales. Even inanimate objects join, dancing, striking one another to make a beat. The party goes on seemingly forever, sustained by the gourd. Fields lie fallow. Animals are untended. Fires rage out of control. Paperwork goes undone. Produce rots. Structures collapse from lack of maintenance. No one cares, entrapped within the Eternal Party, fed by the gourd. But over time, Tenekel grows bored, and travels somewhere else.
Then the consequences hit. At best the party-goers have the worst hangover of their lives and a crippling muscle soreness. Some were killed during the reverie, whether by overdose or being trampled to death, and only now are their deaths discovered. Tools are broken after being used as drums or dancing so hard they break. Fires still rage, devouring any who cannot move to save themselves. Some cities have starved after they realize they have neglected the harvest. Entire farming communities have been wiped out after all buildings have been swallowed by the wild during their party. Many are the people and families that have commited suicide, or faced disgrace, or have shattered, after realizing what they had done under the influence on drugs and alcohol.
And worse of all, is the gnawing desire to join the party, and the growing resentment at the more mundane drudgery and hard work that is part of life. Officials no longer work quite as hard. Smiths no longer work day and night to produce works. Mothers are no longer so devoted to feeding and raising their children. Farmers no longer toil so diligently. All remember the party, and all, in their souls, wish for it and more. Either way, communities begin to dissolve and weaken, no longer willing to put in the hard work and sacrifices to make life go on. Entire monasteries of immaculate monks have been broken by this, one Abbot having been found 20 miles away in an opium den, having pawned off the place's valuables for drugs.
Tenekel is the party, the dance floor, the reverie, and of course the splitting headache that comes after a hard night's drinking, and the dim realization that you shouldn't have taken those drugs with your friends. Of course the demon doesn't see anything wrong with it, seeing it as a natural consequence, not quite cognizant of the fact that most humans can't survive the things a demon lord can.
Besides, aren't more people happier without those 'responsibilities' and 'duties' they often talk about so much that stops them from having fun?
Sorcerers tend to summon her for many reasons. The most foolish, for the parties. Some use her more wisely, by summoning her for her gourd and bind her storytelling abilities. Her gourd can end droughts in entire regions by blasting out entire storm systems and river's worth of water, and end famine by creating a feast for entire cities. And some summon her to alter the landscape, by creating entire rivers of trees, of lava, of wind. And some, summon her for battle.
Tenekel tends to fight with her bare hands, sometimes using her fists and sometimes using the weighted chains on her as ranged attacks, though often she is hampered by her extreme intoxication. When truly angered or when ordered to, she unplugs her gourd and releases a veritable river of... whatever. This can range from wine, to water, to sandstorms, to lava, acidic spite, thunderclouds, swords, or in one rare occasion, dust mites.
Tenekel can enter Creation during Calibration, when a celebration is so large and sumptuous that not even deaths from rushed preparation will slow it down.
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