Kuara, She That Shakes the Earth

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Drawn by terrible charisma, praise-choirs trail after the demon queen Kuara until their voices break and they die of exhaustion.
Wherever they stop to sing her glory, fire rains from the sky in the ruddy hues of light that skims the surface of the Black Boar that Twists the Sky.
It melts the basalt and brass of the City and fuses the silver sands of the Desert, and upon the scorched ground it solidifies into monuments of red metal that announces her glory to the sky.

For as long as she tarries there; the rain of fire will spread; her worshippers clustering around her temple-obelisks and statues as the land around them blisters and boils to make way for new architecture.
Eventually, the complex will reach such tremendous weight that it will collapse through the layer and fall into the Sea; leaving nothing but a gaping chasm in its wake. Then, and only then, Kuara will move on to find a new source of adulation.

The land around her tabernacles is no safer than that the buildings crushed under it, for it is Kuara’s habit to test her weapons indiscriminately and in all directions from the peak of her highest tower.
Her craft has none of the subtlety or beauty of Ligier’s, but her expertise rivals his in the raw force of destruction. Excessive force and vast collateral damage are her watchwords, and though her contraptions are hulking and brutal mechanisms, they excel at what they do. Most operate from range - bore-mangonels that hurl stones so heavy they crush space to a pinpoint where they land, or scorching ballistae whose bolts of unseen fire strike through the skulls of all in their range, reducing their brains to charred ash.
There are always exceptions, though, and many are the shattered ruins in Malfeas where a battering ram or wall-render of her devising has seen use.

In person, Kuara stands rust-skinned and barrel-chested; twice the height of a man and bedecked with precious metal ornaments. Her feet are cloven hoofs and her hair is a wild mane of smouldering lead wires.
Of her three faces; two are reciting endless praise-paeans to her glory at any given time, and the eyes of the third flash with black fire as she speaks. Such is her strength that she can create a crater ten feet deep with a single stamp or break the back of a Lesser Elemental Dragon with her bare hands - and the skulls of great opponents that her vassals carry boast that she has done so many times.
Sometimes she takes monstrous form - an elephantine horse with six legs and tusks of blood-stained bronze, or a colossal head whose lips are lined ruby within a fiery leaden wheel - but when she deigns to fight herself it is most often in her humanoid form, with a black iron flail tipped with the burning bristles of her greater self.

Fame is Kuara’s chief desire - fame, wealth and the adulation of all.
She hires or conscripts vast armies of serfs to gather tribute and spread worship among the teeming multitudes of Malfeas, and sells her weapons only to those who offer her respect and aggrandisement. Prospective buyers should not be fooled into thinking she will hear only what she wants to hear - her mind is powerful for all that it runs along predictable tracks, and nothing arouses her ire more than being shown pity.
Anything she sees as a form of hated disrespect - or worse yet, dismissal - will make an enemy of whoever has failed to recognise her glory. She is rich, for wealth is but another form of renown, and she is mighty, for power is a synonym to prestige, but these things are important to her only as ways to advertise her innate magnificence. She abides no praise of another in her presence unless it references her as the ultimate source of acclaim, and will fall into a terrible rage should she hear of a rival being honoured above her.

Rarely is Kuara able to announce her splendour in Creation. She cannot set foot outside the Demon Realm unless it is to step into a royal or noble court that has been brought to utter devastation by the selfishness and arrogance of its leader in increasing their reputation. The wise sorcerer is careful to flatter her when they call upon her, almost invariably for destruction. Whether she uses her terrible engines of war, her slave-armies or her own might, Kuara is a formidable foe. While she can be bound to extol the name of another, she will swiftly fall to madness from the humiliation, and only the foolish or ignorant would think to suggest she is not the greatest being in all existence.
The only being she can admit might exceed her - and that only in her darkest moments - is the Unconquered Sun. For such an insult, though they have never met, she hates him and all his works as much as she yearns to challenge him and prove herself the greater.

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