Mortis Angor


Mortis is a cook, utterly devoted (perhaps to a fault), searching for the rarest ingredients and ideas to tune his craft. The ends is simple: to acquire power, like any respectable human. But the means is strange, which makes it difficult for others to detect or perceive; that is through cooking.

He grew up in an affluent society, and a fat one, though he himself very thin; this society well-fed due to a natural convergence of all the greatest cooks. Most chefs of notable reputation at some point either trained or cooked there. The bombastic personalities that typify such a wealthy area, expectedly carried many dark traits, methods to goals that did not acquiesce to the Golden Rule. Such devilish traits thus inevitably became a part of his being as childhood solidified into young adulthood. His parents were also typical of that society, and indulged themselves with unbridled furor in the endless flavors and feasts available to them. As such they died very early to various dietary and heart related ailments. But Mortis shared little connection with them for they rarely interacted over his first 12 years, and their exit affected him little.

A few years prior Mortis had begun helping out and practicing with the many great cooks in their kitchens, whomever would have him. He did not do this for the food itself, proven by his own stalking appearance. In fact, Mortis had realized the power of a great cook. The best cooks cook for the highest persons in a society, supplying them with whatever nourishments those cooks see fit. Few other individuals ever find themselves sharing the same room with such powerful individuals, but there must always be a cook to fuel the bodies that represent such power. To an extreme, a few extra ingredients could bring the greatest of all Kings ever to have reigned over any land to his end; a single bite of the same roast that he’d been having for the past 25 years. So the means are furtive and sadistic. From about the ages of 10 to 20 he studied there.

At 20 a trifling encounter between a wizard and the cook of the dish that the wizard claimed to be “spoiled, and utterly revolting” in the dining room outside the kitchen from where Mortis worked, sparked a new direction. Magical powers, he thought, might be intertwined into the culinary to create the most supernatural dishes, to control people’s very thoughts as much as their own desire to consume a meal; perhaps absurd, but not to Mortis. Killing a King is to subdue a most powerful entity, but to puppet him is much much more. Foodborne suggestions aided by magic was only the beginning. Mortis left the Gluttons to join the very band that the angry wizard belonged to, in exchange for his knowledge of the culinary, a kind of information that that band of wizards did not mind having around. It turned out that this wizard was by nature a very angry man, and suitably named Angor.

Angor and his band apprenticed Mortis in the ways of wizardry for 27 years. With such newfound powers Mortis no longer was restricted to the ingredients available in the markets and otherwise conventionally obtainable. Similarly the tastes of the wizards diversified into questionable branches of taste. As such, more strange and uncomfortable things began to go into Mortis’s concoctions, until one day it reached an extreme (not to imply it would stop there). The band of Wizards was attacked by a rival band of Warlocks, some feud that had superseded many members’ lives on both sides. The attack killed many wizards, but all of the warlocks, save perhaps one under the impression that Mortis was not as much a member of the wizards as just a traveling companion. They left Mortis surrounded by the corpses of his former teachers and companions from the past 27 years.

Those many years had gradually transformed Mortis unknown to him, twisting and warping the workings of his inner mind. He was at this point consumed not even by the goal of gaining power, but simply by the means itself: to create the most powerful dish ever created, one that if consumed would grant its eater everything they might ever desire. Mortis was entranced by the creation of such a dish; not a single thought stepped beyond that, towards what might happen would someone (perhaps he) actually enjoy such a dish.

Mortis needs a crew for no reason other than to overpower the most formidable opponents (where one might find the rarest and most unusual ingredients). He is 47 today and has adopted Angor as a surname to mark the second half of his life which started with the encounter with Angor, the Wizard, where his great knowledge of the arcane matured; his first, the name presumably given to him by his parents marked the beginning of his life in the affluent gluttony of a too rich part of town, where his great knowledge of the culinary ripened.

Mortis Angor

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