Why Beleth didn't simply vaporize her when she got too powerful is unknown. The Princess of Nightmares isn't exactly tolerant. There are endless theories: the most popular is that after dealing with her for so many years, Beleth decided that Hell deserved a taste of her own private Hell. At any rate, that theory is safer to say aloud then the one that suggests that Beleth actually felt a feeble scrap of pity for Lynoure.

No one wants to think about what it would take for Beleth to feel pity…

Servitors of Lynoure (her Word is usually shortened to Angst in corporeal tongues. Other popular choices are Self-absorption, Nihilism, and the ever-popular Justifiable Homicide) must always be bitter, sarcastic, gloomy as hell and sport as many affectations as the market can bear. Having happy thoughts, smiling in a non-cynical manner, and enjoying anything that has Jimmy Stewart in it is dissonant.

Contrary to popular belief, Servitors of Lynoure do not have to wear black, per se, but so many do that Nybbas has recently started a fashion for Hawaiian shirts and bright paint in sheer self defense.

Besides, no one else will hang out with them, anyway. Unlike most Servitors, demons serving Lynoure get sent to the Corporeal plane extraordinarily quickly, and often quite informally. It's not that they deserve the honor: their Princess whines incredibly when one of her Servitors gets soul-killed by other demons, and it's simpler to just show them a Tether and boot them upstairs. Once on earth, they tend to congregate, trying their best to make everyone else gloomily nihilistic and depressed. They're actually pretty good at that.

Unfortunately, once they start being successful, the Host notices. Seeing as a Mercurian of Flowers could take them down with one hand tied behind her back and suffering from a hangover, they usually end up contemplating their Hearts for a good fraction of their existence. Luckily, Servitors of Lynoure like doing that. It allows them all sorts of poetic musings on futility. The rest of Hell likes it, too. It keeps them out of the way.

Djinn of Angst always successfully attune to those things or people associated with gloom or despair. They're also immune to any drug or sensation that can cause pleasure, except of course the standard "taking pleasure in contemplating the meaningless of life". These demons are standard fixtures at parties. The really, really dull parties where everybody is trying to outdo each other in sheer nihilism. Frankly, they last longer than other Servitors, because they're never motivated enough to actually do anything. Some Malakim have even argued that not killing one isn't automatically violating the "suffer not an evil to live" oath. They'll kill them anyway, because that's what Malakim do, but there's no real sport in it.

Those few Calabim that serve Lynoure (she's not too fond of the Band. Why wreck that which is so obviously doomed to destruction anyway?) are supposed to specialize in wrecking emotional and spiritual relationships. Unfortunately for them, Lynoure thinks that the best way to do this is to give them the ability to always know the nastiest or most cutting thing to say to a person. Seeing as this horribly clashes with the Calabite's standard nature (to the point that the target gets to make a Perception Roll at +4 to resist the effects), they tend to get really frustrated and start smashing things, whereupon any other celestials in the area show up. Beating up a Calabite of Angst makes just about everybody's day, especially since the demon usually can't keep his mouth shut, even when somebody is punching it…

Lynoure's Servitors fear her Habbalah, as they, at will, can cause everyone in a 5-yard radius to suffer from cheerful, pleasant emotions with a Will Roll (this lasts for ten minutes after the target wanders out of range). However, if two Habbalah have this Attunement active at the same time, and happen to get within range of each other, the Symphonic vibrations causes both to explode. Lynoure would try to fix this bug in the Attunement, but Hell collectively insisted that it stay.

Even for Habbalah, these Punishers are very, very strange.

No self-respecting Lilim would even think about working for Lynoure. Those who do get their last Geas yanked by Lilith pronto.

A Shedite of Lynoure's may automatically possess anyone who is experiencing a form of art. However, their idea of corruption is, shall we say, slightly at odds with their Band-mates. At first, the possessed only changes his or her wardrobe to emphasize black (berets are depressingly common). Next comes the odd lipstick and cosmetic choices. Soon the possessed starts to listen to only the most pretentious bands. Then comes the reading aloud of bizarrely incomprehensible poetry (written by the Corrupter), followed by sneering at anything that suggests that the world isn't actually drowning in its own vomit. By the end of the ride, the host is generally acting like the sort of person that real counter-cultural types ruthlessly suppress whenever a prejudiced news team stumbles onto the scene.

Oddly enough, Shedim are really the most effective of Lynoure's Servitors. This is balanced by the fact that other Shedim will do anything to get it out of their sight, up to and including anonymous phone calls to Malakim hit squads. They have a reputation to protect, after all.

An Impudite of Lynoure doesn't need to Charm anyone first to siphon Essence. They do, however, take 2 points of physical damage each day, unless they have siphoned at least 2 points of Essence normally the night before.

Three guesses what their favorite role-playing game is. You only get one to imagine what happens when they meet up with a certain type of Undead.

All Servitors of Lynoure must take this Attunement upon character creation.

Lynoure has only one Distinction (having three is so passe).

These demons can automatically detect every person within a mile radius who is severely depressed. They often go to laugh at them. However, the Baron must make a Will Roll every day or detect every severely depressed person within a mile radius … all at once. This usually has no real effect in game terms, but makes the Baron a gloomy, put upon wretch for about an hour or so. Nobody really notices any change, and fewer care.

Actually, Lynoure has a good relationship with many of the other Princes. This is not because she's particularly useful or powerful, and it's certainly not due to her personality. It's almost entirely due to the fact that she's good looking, and the fact that many Demon Princes have, shall we say, difficulties, when it comes to dating.

There are, of course, exceptions. Beleth was happy to get rid of her, and avoids her whenever possible. Lilith doesn't swing that way. Andreaphlus swings every way simultaneously, but doesn't need to deal with any more head cases. Kronos is terminally clueless when it comes to girls (unlike his brother, who's got a whole freaking harem, at his age, what would Mom think?). Valefor, as we all know, has more girls than he knows what to do with. Kobal might be friendly, but it's hard to tell, seeing as he hasn't stopped laughing in two months.

Allied: Asmodeus, Belial, Saminga, Vapula

Associated: Furfur, Haagenti, Malphas

Neutral: Baal, Kobal, Nybbas

Hostile: Andreaphlus, Beleth, Kronos, Lilith, Valefor

Andrealphus: "Now Novalis and I agree on two issues: keep humanity alive, and keep any and all Servitors of Lynoure, past and present, as far away from us as possible. Praise … well, praise anybody, she's currently fixated on that dried up stick of a secret policeman."

Asmodeus: "None of your business. Or did you want to have a chat with my Inquisitors?" "That darkest of Princes, poignant with the hidden pain he wears like a crown of knives. My soul burns with the acid of melancholy when his midnight gaze sears its way across my flesh…" (Space considerations forbid the remainder of Lynoure's opinions of her fellow Princes.

Actually, this was the only one that could be gotten out of her that was even remotely comprehensible.)

Baal: "She's a distraction, and her Servitors are worse than useless: Redeeming actually makes them marginally more of an asset to the Cause. On the other hand, she's definitely attractive, and she wants me, of course. I can tell. Even Michael agrees that she wants me. She's just trying to make me jealous by playing up to Asmodeus. It isn't working, obviously. I could care less about her.

Why, yes, this is a new medal. Don't you think that it adequately represents my blinding puissance?"

Beleth: "Free. I'm free! Free, do you hear? FREE!"

Belial: "She burns for me, and tough luck on Baal about it. Hey, man, I'M FIRE! I know all about burning! She can't keep her eyes off of me! STOP LAUGHING! I mean it!"

Furfur: "Lynoure is one of those individuals that only can only achieve a sense of self-worth from an extremely masochistic lifestyle: this seems contradictory from more mainstream points of view, yes, but she honestly derives a certain pleasure from self-degradation. This, coupled with her choice of an extremely attractive vessel (by human standards), makes her such a fascinating individual to know.

"Oops. I mean, she's one nutty (bleep) who's whacked out of her (bleeping) skull, man, but she's a hot nutty (bleep), so that's (bleeping) OK by me. You got a (bleeping) problem with that, you (bleep) wimpy (bleep) (bleep) (bleep)?"

Haagenti: "I took her to this really nice place. Sixteen Essence a head … mmmmm, heads… waiters with clean shirts, salad bar with sneeze guards, the works. What does she order? Two slices of dry bread and a glass of tepid water. Still, well, it's not like most girls talk to me, or anything. Without screaming, that is."

Kobal: "My only regret is that I didn't think of this first…"

Kronos: "The War is no place for the terminally depressed. Why Lucifer let her have a Principality is incomprehensible, but no doubt tied up with someone's worst Fate.

"Besides, I know what she wants. She wants to drain our precious Essence. Women seek me out, you know. I do not avoid them: I simply deny them my Essence…"

Lilith: "I swear, it's at times like these that I really start thinking about updating my resume. I busted out the entire Descending Hierarchy, started a millennia-long war for Space and Time, and for what? So that a morbid, self-centered, goth-wannabe-wannabe gets to taste the power of the Symphony and complain about how miserable her life is? If this gets any worse, I SWEAR I'm going to call Marc about that job opening in Collections…"

Malphas: "She understands. She's the only one who does, really. She may even be worthy of my regard. This fascination of hers with that petty bureaucrat is only a passing fancy. Soon, she will realize that the only place she can hope to … thrive? Grow? Satisfactorily contemplate the agony of existence? Anyway, the only place for her is at my command. She will choose to follow my lead, and support my work…

"Odd. What was that twang?"

Nybbas: "Think happy thoughts, baby. Think happy thoughts, baby. Think happy … what? Oh, Lynoure. The Princes may love the package, baby, but her people are a real drag on the market. It's all I can do to trot out enough bread and circuses. Still, anything that can make one of her crew laugh has got to be killer Earth eyeball candy."

Saminga: "Lynoure? Well … err, umm, err … you know, she's just this girl. We've hung out. She's … well, … you know, I don’t think about her that often. Really. I mean it.

"Err. I have to go now."

Valefor: "I knew I should have taken some of these guys out more. I knew it. But, no, I had to be all "I'm way too cool to be even seen with you dweebs", and now they spend all their time mooning over an absolute gloom-magnet. She's even sucked some of them into her bad habits. Like clove cigarettes. Do you have any idea how ridiculous a Shedite looks when it's smoking a clove cigarette?"

Vapula: "All those muscle-bound jerks are all alike, assuming that a girl will just fall for them if they flex their pecs or something. Meanwhile, they laugh at those of us who can think without overheating our brains. Just because we're smart, they think that gives them the right to give us wedgies and kick sand in our face. Well, I'm telling them that they don't get to bother such a sensitive girl, and my Omni-Obliterator, Mark XXIII, will be sure to reinforce the argument. Top of the World, Ma! Top of the World!"

God and Lucifer only knows. She's done nothing particularly important since she became a Princess, and the other Princes are spending more time trying to be impressive (or recoiling in horror) than in prosecuting the War. Her Servitors are royal pains in the neck, and spend most of their time on Earth ineffectually running from angels. Even a Servitor of Flowers will cheerfully eviscerate a demon of Lynoure's if he gets the change, and Lord knows that they get the chance a lot.

It's been suggested (by Elohim, mostly: they're the only ones who can deal with the situation rationally) that Lucifer had planned for this all along. The Princes need slapping down every so often (that tends to happen among entities that emulate selfishness with every waking breath), and this could be a particularly twisted method of doing so. Meanwhile, the Host is spending so much time on the Great Angst Turkey Shoot that they aren't taking advantage of Hell's temporary confusion. It's not like Lucifer needs to win the War this afternoon, after all: a Delay of Game could be useful later.

On the other hand, the Lightbringer might just have screwed up royally. If he was omniscient, Lucifer wouldn't be stuck in Hell right now.

Rites

- Publicly display your utter depressed state to the world's cruel, malevolent gaze

- Sit in a crowd of people for two hours, all of whom are competing to be gloomier than the rest

- Have three or more individuals hold you down while someone kicks the living crap out of you (it was happening so often that Lynoure decided that it served her Word)

Chance for Invocation: 6 (Lynoure likes being put-upon)

Invocation modifiers

+1 A raven

+2 One of those skulls with the really intense dribbly candles

+3 A coffin that has only been used as a bed

+4 An entire print run of moody, gloomy self-absorbed tripe that no one bought because it was "too sensitive for the common herd to properly appreciate"

+5 A very, very, very bad concert by a very, very, very bad poseur band

+6 A performance artist who has just committed suicide on-stage in order to further his or her career

If the above hasn't made it clear, Lynoure could give lessons in depression to the Dead Sea. It's not so much that she's eternally despondent about everything: it's just that she's so annoyingly smug about it. Lynoure likes clumping around, moody and verbose, simultaneously decrying how awful the world is while simultaneously being one of the most powerful entities in Creation.

Anybody who encounters Lynoure comes away with either ready to kick puppies, or else go out and do something incredibly nice to the next person they see. These two reactions come from the same source: a desperate desire to deny the Awful Truth that Lynoure represents.

Servitors of Lynoure, if they actually decide to go Renegade, have a 99% Redemption rate (thankfully, the rest suicide). These demons, when they become Discordant, always end up Selfless or Merciful, and when you're rebelling against total pseudo-artistic nihilism, there's not much of an option anyway but to go up. The Host should be pleased with this.

Note the use of the word "should".

The problem is that these potential Redeemed always survive the process, and end up really, really happy. Happier than a new Bright Lilim, I hear you ask? Let me put it this way:

Try imagining Mary Poppins. Take her DNA and splice it with that of the two camp counselors from the movie Addams Family Values. Then, give them a perpetual IV drip of liquid Pixie Stix. Heavily laced with amphetamines. Now give the whole package very large, soulful, puppy-dog / anime prepubescent-girl eyes.

Are you getting the picture, here?

At first, the Host did what they always do when they get disgustingly cute converts: that's right, they foisted them on Novalis. After a few months, she foisted them right back. Laurence attempted to pull rank and order the Archangel of Flowers to hold on to them, which led to the interesting scene of the General of the Host being pulled into his private office by one ear and closeted with Novalis for a half hour. Of course, the assembled angels and blessed souls most carefully did not hear any loud thwacking noises, protests to someone's mother, and certainly did not note how Laurence refrained from sitting down for the rest of the day…

Laurence didn't even try to keep his new charges. He sent them over to the Library, where a grim Archangel of Archives (on direct order from Yves) with a really big flaming sword met them. For a while, they were the responsibility of Janus (after all, who would be better to handle new things then the embodiment of Change?): his Servitors were never more grateful for their dissonance conditions. Jean garrisoned the Halls of Progress. Gabriel looked Laurence right in the eye and murmured about Smiting the Cruel. Marc went on an extended vacation. David announced that he was thinking of lightening up on his "no first strike" policy.

Eventually, Laurence had to swallow his pride and go talk to Michael, who grinned nastily and sent the poor little dears right back down to earth to harass their former Band mates. They love doing that. They love doing everything. Their mere presence in an area guarantees a steady exodus by every celestial, Saint, Soldier, Undead and Sorcerer, by whatever means necessary. Even the ethereal spirits avoid their haunts.

Occasionally, one gets a grip and becomes actually tolerable.

Occasionally.