The prison of many-armed Saresh: a demigod with a lot of hit dice
Jutting out of the murderous sea is a cylindrical pillar of stone a mile tall and five miles wide. Deep scores mar its flanks, preventing any sense of cohesion or intelligent design, but the pillar grows uniformly wider the higher it grows: the mark of countless years of biting wind and hungry waves. Climbing is a near-impossible task.
The massive flock of white birds wheeling about above the spire have no such problem. For them it is a haven, and they make their nests among the sparse shrub grasses that grace the lip of the pillar, feeding their children the mirror-scaled fish that school in the shallow sea caves at the pillar's base.
No bird dares fly much further than the pillar's lip, and never down into that great pit that makes up its hollow core. Four miles wide and five miles deep, it extends far below sea level and is perfectly circular, with a long, smooth ramp spiraling its way to the bottom. There, cast in shadow but for those brief moments the sun lingers directly overhead each day, is a set of great stone doors. Sealed long ago by heroes long-drowned, the doors ward off those that would open them with a fearsome image of a many-armed monster and dire warnings in all the mortal tongues of that era, though of course those tongues, too, like the men that spoke them, are long-drowned.
Sealed behind those great stone doors is the demigod many-armed Saresh, master of darkness, blindness, and covetousness, and born of a tryst between Ereshkigal, Queen of Hell, and the serpent king Zehier in the days before his murder. Here is the story of how that deed came to pass.
Long ago, in those antediluvian days when mortal men counted their years with numbers, many-armed Saresh was roused up from below the earth by foolish mortal actions. This is not that story, however, and suffice it be said that once he began to slither across the face of the earth he terrorized the mortal kingdoms and forced the mortal kings and their slaves to pay him heed and offer tribute. He commanded the mortal kings and their slaves to raise him a great palace shaded from the sun by a grand canopy of silk, for the sun was powerful and golden in those days. But it was drafty and it was cold and there were too many windows to remember to stay away from during sunrise or sunset, and so many-armed Saresh began to miss his home beneath the earth. So he commanded the mortal kings and their slaves to carve him a palace just as fine as that one—nay, grander!—but this time beneath the earth, where he was more comfortable.
And so the mortal kings went away and conferred with their magicians, who concocted a plan. Some time later the mortal kings returned to Saresh's palace above the earth, and the greatest of the mortal kings said, “O many-armed Saresh, we have done as you asked and carved you a great palace beneath the earth, a place of awesome grandeur worthy of your magnificence.” And so when the sun set, many-armed Saresh and a great parade of mortal kings and their slaves set out from one palace to find another.
They soon came to a pillar of stone four miles tall and five miles wide. The greatest of the mortal kings pointed to the top of the pillar, and he said, "O many-armed Saresh, at the top of this great pillar raised in your honor is your palace," and many-armed Saresh was thoroughly impressed with the handiwork of the mortal kings and their slaves. They ascended the great pillar raised in his honor, and at the top they came to a pit four miles wide and five miles deep. The greatest of the mortal kings pointed to the bottom of the pit, and he said, "O many-armed Saresh, at the bottom of this great pit dug in your honor is your palace," and many-armed Saresh was thoroughly impressed with the handiwork of the mortal kings and their slaves. They descended the great pit dug in his honor, and at the bottom they came to a set of stone doors a thousand cubits tall. The greatest of the mortal kings pointed to the stone doors, carved with a fearsome image of many-armed Saresh, and he said, "O many-armed Saresh, behind these great stone doors built carved in your honor is your palace,” and many-armed Saresh was thoroughly impressed with the handiwork of the mortal kings and their slaves.
Each of the great stone doors took a hundred slaves to open by pulling on chains of iron as thick as a man’s waist, and they began to do so. When the doors were open wide enough for Saresh to fit through them, the greatest of the mortal kings pointed to the opening, and for the last time he said, "O many-armed Saresh, through there is your palace." And Saresh, thoroughly impressed with the handiwork of the mortal kings and their slaves, slithered through the opening and saw that behind the great stone doors there was only a minuscule cave, barely large enough to contain his bulk. And his rage was great, and he rose up to his full fearsome height and began to strike at the gathered slaves and the kings and their warriors, killing dozens with each mighty blow. But the magicians of the mortal kings had been too clever for many-armed Saresh, and they knew his weakness. The pit was so deep that Saresh did not notice the sun's steady pursuit until it was too late.
Frantically, Saresh began to slither up the stairs to return to his palace above the earth, but the pillar had taken too long to ascend and the pit had taken too long to descend and the doors had taken too long to open. The midday sun beamed down directly into the pit, and many-armed Saresh was forced to cower in the cave behind the magnificent facade. And while he cowered and was vulnerable, the slaves and warriors and kings who remained were able to shut the great stone doors, their magicians binding them with spells of sealing of the likes never seen since the antediluvian days, trapping many-armed Saresh in the darkness below. And no one has ever opened the doors since.
Secretly, in the dark, many-armed Saresh tunnels downwards, ever downwards. One day, he will reach Hell and enact his revenge upon the shades of those who once trapped him. But he'd much rather you just opened the doors for him.
Many-Armed Saresh
HD 22
AC as leather
Damage N/A (roll reflex to avoid being crushed, dying instantly)
Mind like a Swiss neoliberal visiting the Balkans in 1992: predatory cunning, entitled arrogance, and utter shortsightedness
Slithers as fast as a man can run, completely silently
Unharmed by all weapons but those blessed by another divine being.
Roll breath when meeting his gaze or be blinded by black tears.
Utterly vulnerable in sunlight.
Scaly, emaciated limbs tangled in a nightmarish mess as tall as two elephants stacked atop one another. He has too many eyes and too many mouths, and he speaks in too many voices. His tongues are, all of them, forked.
For G L A U G U S T 2 0 2 5, "something with a lot of hit dice." I hope twenty-two's enough.