The Shape

No one is certain of the origin of this creature; the specifics of its creation or its hunt have been lost to time and the grave. Many speculate it has similar origins to a revenant, with its scar of destruction across Faerun resembling a rampage similar to such undead. Others say its incredibly long lifespan disproves this, thus it must be the result of an infernal pact, leading the recipient on an eternal hunt against a devil enemy's clan in a slow-burning genocide.

Many scholars and members of the targeted family have entreated adventurers of the realm to try to destroy or otherwise mitigate the impact of the Shape on Faerun, but many dismiss it as either a temporary threat or unworthy of their time, citing the low count of its yearly culling. Therefore, towns that know of it may abandon the target of its wrath in an attempt to ward off the creature, knowing the sheer difficulty of trying to bring the Shape down.

It wears a flexible bone-white mask with prominent cheekbones, slim holes for eyes, and leather straps. The clothes may vary, but when it revives, it wears collared dark-blue coveralls and wields a kitchen knife. At first glance, it appears indistinguishable to a normal person simply wearing a mask. If one's gaze lingers, however, the evil becomes dreadfully apparent.

Vengeful Return. As long as the Shape's soul is free, the Shape will teleport to an unobserved spot at least a mile away from the town of the last person to act against it on the first day of Uktar. If there is no surviving person who acted against it, it will instead appear in the outskirts of the town of its closest relative. The Shape knows the distance to and direction of any creature against which it seeks. If the creature that the Shape tracks dies, it knows and moves to its next target.

Icon of Terror. This creature has had a long amount of time to discover what makes mortals tick; namely, what makes them run, where they hide, and what they see. Its body language is said to give off a similar impression to a fully-grown dragon, even with the stature of a man.

Abberant Nature. The Shape doesn't require air, food, drink, or sleep.

I met them fifteen years ago, I was told there was nothing left; no reason, no conscience, no understanding in even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, of good or evil, right or wrong. I met this child with this blank, pale, emotionless face, and...the blackest eyes - the devil's eyes. I realized that what was living behind that child's's eyes was purely and simply... evil. -Record from a destroyed town This is the position and description for the top text