[color=white][indent][big][i]Gather 'round people, wherever you roam, and admit that the waters around you have grown, and accept it that soon you'll be drenched to the bone... If your time to you is worth savin', then you better start swimmin' or you'll sink like a stone... Your old road is rapidly agin', please get out of the new one if you can't lend your hand, for your times they are a-changin'...[/i][/big][/indent][/color][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][i][color=white]-Bob Dylan[/color][/i][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent]
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Time was, human souls were easy pickings for anyone with enough know-how to give their contracts the authority of Hell and a bit of tricky wording. Baphomets, easily mistaken for satyrs on account of their goatlike legs (the distinguishing feature between the two being the Baphomet's possession of ram horns as opposed to the goat horns atop a satyr's head) were the supreme experts in crooked deals, possessing a deadly combination of a silver tongue, innocent features, and enough magical potential to make the wish being given in exchange for the soul come true for just long enough to make the contractee believe that maybe they hadn't made such a bad move putting their name to paper.

Of course, soul theft tends to attract the attention of certain religious authorities. As these lopsided bargains became more and more rampant, going beyond mere severance of ties between body and spirit: hired shysters began to appear holding similar contracts, having been offered power if they would damn their fellow humans. This practice could not be allowed to continue, lest the entire human race wind up damned or corrupted.

The countermeasures to this infernal threat to the safety of the world was as beautiful as it was straight forward: since no enslaved person would ever dare speak ill of the Baphomet who had promised them power beyond their wildest dreams, and anyone else who signed a contract with one was a desiccated husk of a corpse without their soul, the church would have to spread the message on their own. Wherever priests, monks, and missionaries traveled, they would be sure to warn all they saw of the dangers of making deals with devils; a warning that seemed like common sense, but such sensibility tended to crumble when faced with the youthful features of such a demon. Common tricks of the trade used in these unholy covenants were revealed, undermining their effectiveness drastically.

Despite the simplicity of the methods (or perhaps because of it), the number of twisted deals being enacted dwindled rapidly. Baphomet masters with many a turned human in their service found their underlings rebelling; with no souls to fuel the masters (or perhaps mistresses) of the dealings, there was no way for them to fulfill the outlandish desires of those they had subjugated. The lucky ones were only beaten and raped. Pactmakers not so fortunate were slain outright, and the Baphomet dwindled to nothing but a chapter in the history of the church and an old wives' tale to children; one of the more practical of said tales, though, because the minute remnants of the population did their best to keep from starving or being murdered.

Jevanzi is one such remnant. Her parchment and ink may as well be thrown into a fire for all the good they'll do her; with humans warier than ever about demons holding pens and making promises just realistic enough to be enticing, every day seems to grow dimmer and dimmer. Her only hope of maintaining her existence lies not with the long, satisfying power of a consumed soul, but with what meager energy she can scrounge up from a man's sexual fluids like some common succubus.

[collapse=Summary]A Baphomet with cripplingly low self-esteem who's gone from tricking humans out of their souls with Faustian deals to begging anyone who doesn't want to kill her on sight for sex so that she doesn't starve to death.

[b][i]Please[/i][/b] do not bully.[/collapse]