Hashic Vro Tholian occultist looked on the horizon with dismay.
"We should hide before it sees us" the voice of the occultist was polite as always but firm
"It was one of the human colonists who seems to have found the vaults of the God of Greed"
"You mean?!" 'Rel The Strong' held a hint of panic in his voice as a child would.
"Snit, we have no wish to bring that old fiend down on our head?!'
The golden glowing shining thing that had been a man stumbled,fell, got up & was driven on by powers beyond its understanding..
'Where are you? I want to share the treasure with you!?! Where did you go?!' The voice was more of a croak then anything. The creature's cracked skin was shot through gore & with coins, bits of silver, money of many denominations, & upon its forehead was the sign of Mammon for all to see.
Hashic Vro Tholian's illusions cloaked them. The thing that had been a man did not move on till sun set into the vast Martian desert for its next victim.
Far into the future of Zothique only the lonely devil Mammon knows all of the whereabouts of the treasures of old Earth.They have all but lost their glimmer but even as time rots them away there are wizards & fools who still summon the old devil back from the depths of time. They hope to gain favor with the old infernal buzzard with pacts for their own rotten souls. But long has his cults faded & the greed has gone from his dead rotting eyes but still he goes through the motions of greed as is its nature. But there is far more to this horror that is older then time.He has been with the universe since its beginning for he is the ruiner of the ways.
The 'Vulth' russ' tells a very different story about this one of the seven princes of Hell. The old god came to Mars with his followers demanding slaves & gold from the red hills. Those who served him in the old times were cursed by the very stuff they brought from the ground. They serve him to this day in undeath & damnation.
Adventurers & outlaws from time to time come across his vaults on Mars, out in the Asteroid belt, & even under certain ancient cities on Old Earth.
1d4 Treasures & Relics of Mammon
- The Twelve Rings of Ravon - These twelve rings of red Martian gold will increase the wearer's Charisma by +3 for 1d6 months after which they will have another 1d200 gold pieces come to them. But there is a price as the rings slowly turn the owner's skin to a sort of weird gold like substance. They will sing the praises of Mammon day and night after this effect happens & only a major quest may halt the process. Some super science cures might also halt the process but they are very expensive.
- The Sword of Vars- This +2 sword is able to cut through even the toughest material and even harm supernatural demons or devils. It was created and cast from the heart blood of a greedy Martian king who wanted to slay his Jeddak brother for the wealth of his nation. Those who wield the thing will serve Mammon as a lich like undead fiend for all eternity.
- Three Coins - These coins of infernal gold will multiply and change into 1d200 gold pieces when the owner asks for their heart's desire.After 1d6 rounds they will return to their owner's hand. These three coins are cursed & after 1d20 months of buying their heart's desire the coins will bring back all of their owner's created gold to them. The gold & greed will change the owner into a JuJu zombie cursed with the gold which will become their skin for all eternity as they serve their master.
- The golden soul chain - This chain of golden links has upon its length 1d20 damned souls & ghosts who are bound to serve the owner of the chain for 1d20 years of service. They will fetch 1d200 pounds of gold and jewels for the owner. But after the allotted time the owner will join these spirits upon the infernal chain gang
Grey hells, or hells aglow with hot and scarlet flowers;
White hells of light and clamor; hells the abomination
Of breathless, deep, sepulchral desolation
Oppresses ever—I have known them all, through hours
Tedious as dead eternity; where timeless powers,
Leagued in malign, omnipotent persuasion—
Wearing the guise of love, despair and aspiration,
For ever drove through ashen fields and burning bowers
My soul that found no sanctuary. . . . For Lucifer,
And all the weary, proud, imperious, baffled ones
Made in his image, hell is anywhere: the ice
Of hyperboreal deserts, or the blowing spice
In winds from off Sumatra, for each wanderer
Preserves the jealous flame of sad, infernal suns.