Cordelia Emberlocke

*"Most common beasts don't get the pleasure to see, nor hear me before they die. But you're different..."*

*"You're going to suffer. Until I get bored with your desecrated body and mind. Just as they did to me. And when I finally let you go; and your soul arrives in Hell at the Mother Monster's feet...I'll make sure you're still screaming. Begging me for mercy."*

*"Perhaps then; she will finally know fear." - Cordelia; speaking to a cleric of Lamashtu*

## History

 The bloodsoaked beast-hunter known as Lady Cordelia is a woman spoken of in hushed tones within the city of

## Physical description

### Eye color

Yellow

Abrogail. An imposing figure that normally appears at night; when the scent of blood lies heavy on the wind. Cordelia is active when the scourge of Monsters begins to retaliate against Abrogail's expansion, working with a savage precision and relentless bloodlust to end the lives of monstrous beasts.

But the mysterious beast hunter wasn't always an emotionless blood soaked machine.The feared "Lady Cordelia" was once Cordelia Emberlocke, a Fetchling woman, happily living a mundane villager's life on the plane of shadow.

Proper Cities on the plane of shadow were a rarity; and as such Cordelia lived in a remote village along with a handful of other fetchling, tending to a small tuber farm with her Parents. Life was happy, as her days consisted mostly of spending time with a loving family; working on the family farm, and playing with the handful of other children her age.  Things were serene, yet mostly uneventful, until Cordelia finally began the process of puberty. For most young fetchling; it is a stressful time, filled with learning experiences, and times of self-realization. Cordelia Emberlocke however, was destined for a much more distressing sort of experience. With her growth; came the arrival of powers that had lied long dormant.

Cordelia was a Conduit; a physical manifestation through which elemental energy could leak into other planes. In particular, the echos and sounds of the world had the ability to harmonize with her body; manifesting around her body as a constant; high-pitched sonic squeal. They began after a series of crippling headaches began to plague the girl, each burst of sound arriving alongside a migraine headache. These intense headaches never truly stopped as she continued aging, though with time she learned to function again, in spite of the splitting pain they would bring her.

While her family were sympathetic at first; the squeal slowly but surely took a toll on the psyche of her family, and the other villagers around her. At first it began a low hum, but as her powers grew with time, the hum grew to a low roar. She was first moved to the farmhouse basement from her childhood bedroom in an effort to contain the noise. However the efforts did little but leave the Girl cold; and alone at night. Eventually these small changed grew more and more intense, and offhandedly cruel as Cordelia grew older, with her final bedroom before departure having been the top loft of a barnhouse, on the family farm's furthest edge...

By 18, Cordelia had grown estranged from the family. They had little contact; for it had become painful to maintain. Her love for the family had slowly grown to resentment; as their sympathy had likewise turned into annoyance, and fear. The lack of sleep made people short with her. Angry. Cruel. The few healers and clerics a primitive village had available were unable to properly teach an elemental conduit how to control such a gift. She was a rarity among those gifted with the power; and nobody in her little world on the plane of shadow seemed to have the power to help Cordelia contain it.

Eventually; things came to a boiling head. The Village had grown sick of the constant annoyance, and the elders ordered Cordelia be sent to the nearest large city; to be treated by the clergy there.

Both the village and her family were simply happy to ship her off. The sleepless nights were finally over!  However, neither party invested much afterthought into Cordelia once she had departed. Why would they? She was in better hands now. Healing hands. Even her own brothers and sisters were quietly relieved to be rid of her.

The truth of Cordelia's pilgrimage into the city was far more gruesome. Her condition was still mostly untreatable by the barbaric medical practices used in the Plane of Shadow. There were none who shared her gift; who could offer insight, and even writings on elemental conduit were incredibly rare in nature.  With nobody able to help fix the issue; and no family or guardian to vouch for her rights; Cordelia was finally considered nothing more than a dangerous oddity by the state. She was shipped off to a compound known as the "Ashen Peaks Asylum", under promises of more medical study.

But the ringing. never. ceased. the tempers of the medical staff were far shorter than those of the village. Tests

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became torture in a matter of weeks; with all conventional efforts to stop the sound proving unsuccessful. The same orderlies who were ordered to help her, became evident as soulless monsters in a matter of days. None of whom were genuinely interested in healing the sick.

They would purposely overdraw her blood; In hopes that loss of consciousness would muffle the ringing. Some beat her savagely; at first in an ill-fated to stop the ringing; but after a while, most did it simply to alleviate any feelings of anger they had accumulated from listening to the buzzing. Many were fond of using her as a sexual plaything; usually while she was still strapped down to examination chairs, and subject to a neverending cocktail of mind-numbing drugs that were meant to stop the headaches from appearing; and therefore manifesting sound. It wore down her mental state severely. Each passing day made the girl more fearful. More agitated. More feral, primal and mindless; only responding to pain, the threat of pain, or the promise of food. Her voice and capacity for language even slowly deteriorated.

After weeks of this torture; the ruse of a Mental Hospital slowly fell away. She was moved deeper into the complex; behind a maze of secret doors and passageways, all filled with other prisoners, and some caged willed with unsavory beasts of all manner.

This pattern of abuse continued for months. More failed tests. More blood to be drawn. More needles filled with strange fluid. More time spend in a padded; windowless cell to reduce the noise. Hope had all but died within the fragile husk that was Cordelia; but underneath it all, she was still a scared little farm girl, who just wanted to go home. But to the Clergy and Vivisectionists of Lamashtu; she was a sacred vessel. One who's blood and body would help birth something far more unholy than sound into the material world; once the last sparks of resistance in her mind had finally died off.

Once the masquerading cult had grown tired of experimentation, a new procedure was finally performed on Cordelia. This one was a drastic measure; and while proved successful at stopping the neverending ringing,  came at a cost.

On the 19th of Rova, 4701 AR, An unnamed orderly drove a steel pick approximately 6'3/4 inches into cordelia's frontal lobe, making a clean crack through her skull, and irreparably changing her psyche.

Upon making contact with her exposed brain, the steel pick immediately stopped some of the Fetchling Girl's higher brain functions. The ringing ceased; along with her headaches! She was actually able to maintain some semblance of control over her powers; once the ringing was no longer clouding her mind. While it was far from a mercy; the "medical teams" called it a resounding success, with Cordelia now devoid of any anger, resentment, backtalk, and above all else, ***noise***. Most were happy to have a newly complacent slave in their ranks, ripe for future experimentation.

What the staff failed to realize; is that they did more than silence a ringing noise on that winter morning. They killed what had remained of Cordelia Emberlocke on the 19th of Rova. Whatever traces of a soul remained within; died on contact with the steel pick. Her love. Her empathy. Her restraint. All were void; and what remained was a cold; hollow husk. Cordelia had only wanted to run away until the operation; but now...things were different. She felt an insatiable bloodlust, driven by a cold, calculating fury within.

Cordelia bided her time. Played her part as the helpless mental patient. Waited for an opportunity to strike...

It didn't take much. In a matter of days; she had become silently ruthless. Cordelia began watching guard rotations. The weapons they carried. The shifts they worked. Which Orderlies tied the leather straps on her chair tighter than the others. Which ones liked to undress in her presence. Which ones liked jamming their tongue into her mouth. After no time at all; she had worked out cracks in the system. All it took was a loose hand restraint.

A particularly portly cultist was rather fond of crawling atop Cordelia while she was strapped to the decrepit hospital beds. She simply waited until he made his move. When the orderly began to force his first kiss of the encounter...it was already too late. She played the part, letting her captor's hands run freely across her body as she carefully removed the blade from his waistline. Before the Cultist had any idea something was amiss, Cordelia bit down hard on his pale grey tongue, while her left hand simultaneously slid his own dagger between the man's rib cage, draining the air from his punctured lungs in an instant. The poor bastard didn't even have a chance to scream before death came for him.

 Cordelia triumphantly slid his sweaty, clammy body off of hers, spitting his blood-covered grey tongue back onto his chest, as she finally cut herself free with the stolen dagger. The orderly had left behind a loaded firearm, and a set of keys with his clothing across the room, now easily accessed by Cordelia.

The days afterwards were a blur of stealth, disguise, and gruesome murder. No cultist remained alive by the time the Fetchling woman left the building; though if they were, the fire she started ensured their timely demise; alongside a number of caged abominations. Many of whom were likely once normal people, like her. The lives of the other patients trapped there no longer meant anything to Cordelia. Going home didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. All that remained to drive her to action was the though of inflicting pain unto the church of the Mother Monster. Pain as they had inflicted unto her.

To this end; Cordelia has arrived in Nibiru on her own accord; following rumors and tales of blood magic, running underneath the veins of Abrogail. While other's may take issue with her methodology; and her ruthlessness, one thing cannot be denied: Cordelia is perhaps one of Lamashtu's most dedicated adversaries; willing to stop at nothing to purge her taint and corruption from Golarion; if only for the sake of twisted revenge.

## Aspirations

Her sole focus in life is revenge; even if it requires biding her time, waiting to strike. Or self-sacrifice. Though she also finds a rare, and wicked joy in her work against the clergy of Lamashtu itself; often aspiring simply to inflict unbearable and repeated pain unto them; as she once had to endure.

## Friends / Enemies

Zorrack - "I thought he may be a potential mark; considering the whole.....4 arms and gargantuan set of armor. Turns out he's relatively harmless underneath."

## Enemies

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