The Gorgon

He was born Draemond, the illegitimate eldest son of a great human lord, and watched the praise go to his two lawful younger half-brothers. He hid his envy perfectly, even teaching them the swordplay and riding that later made them famous. At sixteen he left to roam the continent and came back scarred and hardened; his father dubbed him the Black Prince for the darkness he sensed, yet Draemond served loyally, first his father and then the brother who inherited.

When the dark god came seeking a lieutenant, Draemond was exactly what he wanted, and they made a pact. As his brothers' armies retreated to the mountain where the final battle would be fought, Draemond's conspirators turned on their own side, butchered thousands and joined the enemy. He was fighting his younger brother when the gods annihilated one another there, and he drank in a huge share of the dark god's essence, close to what the god's mightiest champions absorbed. He was first to learn how to steal a divine bloodline by slaying its bearer, and first of the blood-corrupted abominations to grow stronger by ruling land.

Now he is a towering stone-skinned humanoid with a massive horned head and the legs and hooves of a goat, moved by a giant's strength. Barely a trace of humanity is left in his face; he is almost wholly evil.

After a thousand years of practice he is specialized with nearly every weapon on the continent; the DM chooses the few exceptions.

His gaze works at will out to 60 feet. After one round focusing on a single foe, he can either petrify the victim (save vs. petrification at -2) or slay him outright (save vs. death magic). Meeting his eyes imposes a further -2, and being within 10 feet of him another -2.

Anyone lurking at his back can be kicked by those goat legs for 2d6, even in a round when he also attacks with a weapon, though kicking worsens his AC by 2 for that round.

His stony skin alone grants base AC 0. Add giant-sized plate mail +5 named Kingbreaker, a shield +5 called Soft Answer and his magic resistance, and he is nearly invulnerable. Only weapons of +2 or better can hit him.

Soon after the battle he founded a kingdom north of the old imperial heartland. For centuries he has bred new bloodlines only to harvest them and sent army after army against the heartland. All who try to read his mind or defy him die. Some say he seized the last emperor's bloodline when he killed him; others whisper that the dying emperor cheated him somehow and drained his strength, which is why the heartland never fell.

His realm, the Iron Crown, lies northeast of the heartland,, along with a goblin kingdom and nearby dwarves. Some decades back his hordes ravaged a neighboring guildlander realm and left it barren. The Crown is a maze of peaks, valleys and crumbling cliffs that rain stones on careless travelers. At its center grows a pine forest that stays green under the reek of nearby volcanoes and stays rooted through frequent small quakes.

Within the forest stands his immense castle of black obsidian, towers lost in cloud and dungeons sunk deep into the earth. Weapons of rare blood-forged steel hang near his throne, and rumor, impossible to check, places the lost sword of the old empire among them. His mercenaries abduct miners and smelters to turn the Crown's iron into arms, and the furnaces' lurid glow colors the haze that never leaves the land.

Unique, he fills no niche. Each year he grows stonier, as if his body were matching his granite heart. He may yet harden into a lifeless statue, sparing the heartland its worst threat.