Habitat: Caverns, mines, areas deep within the earth (Anywhere pitch black, that's for sure)
Disposition: Shy, meek, ferocious and passionate (when aroused)
Diet: Ethereal essence (leftover spiritual traces of beings), mana of human men
(ANother test , minna-san! Gomen.. :D)
A rare race of primordial archdemons, second only to the Succubus as one of the strongest Mamonos and on par with the Dragons, their natural rivals. Tall, menacing and formidable in appearance, they were feared during the reign of the former Demon Lord. With inhuman strength and prowess in demonic magic, they marched into the chaos-ridden battlefield as his soldiers, decimating human armies before being converted into Mamonos. At present, they are believed as legends, with tales of their sightings rarely reaching to five in a decade. Even when mating season comes around, they seldom leave their settlements. Still, it is celebrated to ever witness one up close, much more, to bring one above ground.
In ages past, it was recorded they weren't originally archdemons, but celestial spirits serving the Chief God alongside Valkyries and Angels for centuries. Possessing high-tier magic able to dispel evil, they were commonly seen amidst the company of mortals, appearing as mysterious maidens who solve their woes with magic. However, they had one fatal weakness: little resistance against corruption. It wasn't long before they transformed into hideous, bloodthirsty monsters, and the land ran red with the blood of warriors they slain. When the current Demon Lord rose to power, the Balrogs found themselves in a standstill; grieving at the mere thought of killing those they would deem worthy as husbands. In shame, they fled to the deepest recesses of the earth, shunning themselves from the upper world, some going into a period of slumber that lasts for centuries.
Among Mamonos, Balrogs are the only ones capable of manipulating and creating weapons fused from fire and shadow, enough to sever a spirit's ties with the physical world, and tear through other's magic. Balrog researchers attest that due of their physical make-up, their true nature is as passionate as flames, and as scheming as the shadows. Their massive wings, draped close to their bodies, are unusable below the surface, yet they make a terrifying image of a winged reaper once they achieve flight.
Balrog homes are typically labyrinths: maze upon maze of caked rock, magma and dark magic, designed to bewilder anyone who straggles into their territory unguided. In these complex structures, many Mamonos who favor darkness live as well, but they do well to fear the original owner of the labyrinth. Once a person wanders in and strikes their fancy, especially during mating season, their pent-up feelings of lust and want soar to its peak, and they will rush towards him like a freighter train, pinning him down effortlessly and assaulting him again and again until he becomes an Incubi. Mortal weapons melt upon contact with their burning bodies, and no one has ever been able to escape a Balrog's full mount.
Despite their sinister portrayal, they are meek, shy and submissive, and cannot hold a proper conversation with humans due to their stuttering speech. Because of the many years spent living alone, they long for companionship, so befriending one is never out of question. However, above evrything else, they favor being of service. They are loyal to a fault to those whom they serve, which in this case, is their husbands, as they did back then to their former master. They will gladly offer themselves as their husband's sword and shield, as well as his personal slave, fawning him daily of whatever service they could bestow, even through intercourse (with which they will do masterfully). Some say they seek spiritual energy, not as food, but as fuel to the immense magic seeping out of the cracks on their skin.
In another note, what is observable among Balrogs is that when they are aroused by laviscious acts, they do away with their modest nature and display a cruel, violent temperament, one that demands nothing more but sex and spiritual energy from their slaves (originally, their masters). This reverse-effect is when their mind are clouded with the thought that 'I am a being with no equal in this pathetic world. All beneath me shall henceforth be my servants' (and their husbands are of no exception).
A strange thing happens when Balrogs gather enough spiritual energy within themselves. The shadow that streams throughout them dissipates, replaced by what appears to be an unnatural white light reminiscent of their cast-aside, ancient forms. This change continues, until the Mamono is no longer a being of fire and shadow, but of flame and eternal brilliance. As their magic becomes ten times more powerful, they turn into more voluptuous, lustful beasts whose demonic appearances are no longer apparent, and whose aims are to constantly seek their husband's attention in order to pull them into sexual bliss.
Be warned, though: do not disturb a sleeping Balrog. Many years ago, a group of mining Dwarves stumbled into the maze-like home of one deep in slumber. Because of the racket these tiny miners caused, the Mamono woke up, and in fury, tore the mountain apart and wrecked havoc for several days, raping any men she encountered before returning to sleep.
Tyrannos have minimal magical ability. However, any disadvantages they have from being inept in magic and from being flightless, they makes up for in physical power and toughness. They have enough physical power that they can knock a foe away with their voice.
Callia had no doubt felt the vibrations through her serpintine lower half and her hand instinctively laid to rest on the hilt of her long sword. Her eyes growing larger as she looked to me for answers, her teal colored tail twitching in apprehension.
Likewise Reridon had readied his smithing hammer in defiance of what would soon be upon us standing next to his wife as they prepared for battle. His tanned skin dripping with sweat and his firey red hair stained in blood and grime.
But if I was right, and I hoped I was not, swords and weapons would be of no more use.
"Yeah Doc. What is it?! What's comin'?! The smithy's face was flushed and tired.
I stretched my arm out past my companions, my blue eyes coming alight as a flame, golden hued in power. Temporal Lightning surrounding my form of similar design.
Time slowed, then froze entirely. I felt it, what it was, what it had become. The presence was of an olden spirit, dark, terribly powerful, enflamed in rage. Stirring from ageless slumber, and approaching swiftly before I withdrew in strife.
THUD! THUD THUD!
"A Balrog Reridon, a demon of the ancient realms...this foe is beyond you or Callia. We'll have to make a run for it.
Reridon and Callia started off but I grabbed Callia's arm before she could move much farther depositing my Sonic into the palm of her hand.
"Slot this into the Navigation Controls Silmë will do the rest. Find Vellantha and get help! She's the only one who can stop this."
What about you sir?
"I'll but you as much time as I can afford. Now go!"
"This is not a discussion Callia! Make for the cave entrance quickly and find the TARDIS! Run!
The pair took off running, or in one case slithering and I turned back drawing forth my sword Galadhrim and investing temporal magic into the blade which swirled and crackled with golden energy mixed with grey steel.
Cracking the joints in my neck I held the blade defensively, I abhorred violence and would be ill pressed to make the first move. But I was uncertain what state such a creature who had slept so long undisturbed would be in, and I would not risk my friends lives.
"Here we go, time for the Guruthos to live up to his name.
THUD THUD THUD
Saw this profile (cannot believe I had not noticed this until now.) and had to write a little something.
Hope you liked it.
Very well done with the profile by the by, I find these creatures fascinating and you did not disappoint my good man.