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Page history last edited by Eloth 12 years, 2 months ago

Hood, King of High House Death


AKA: The Hooded One (Seven Cities), The Lord of Death


Steven Erikson: Hood's Realm -- we'll see more it anon, unfortunately. It's a bloody wasteland, alas. What does that say about me? Not sure. Nothing good, I suspect. (Q and A with malazanempire No 1 (2003))


Gethol: 'I know you, now, Hood. I know who – what – you are. Delicious irony, the mirror of your face. Do you in turn, I now wonder, know me?’(MoI, UK Trade, p.252)


Lady Envy: 'What would you do...with the knowledge that

Hood does nothing with your soul? That it’s left to wander, eternally lost, purposeless? That it exists without hope, without dreams?...I am baiting you, of course...How would I know anything of Hood’s hoary realm? Then again, think of the physical manifestations of that warren – the cemeteries in your cities, the forlorn and forgotten barrows – not places conducive to festive occasions, yes? Think of all of Hood’s host of holidays and celebrations. Swarming flies, blood-covered acolytes, cackling crows and faces stained with the ash from cremations – I don’t know about you, but I don’t see much fun going on, do you?’ (MoI, UK Trade, p.279)




Capemoth (in Seven Cities) 'the harbingers, the eaters of rotting flesh. It's the nectar of decay for them, the rose bloating under the sun.' (DG, UK MMPB, p.286)





'Nor was he known as a melodramatic god - the Lord of Death was reputed to be, if anything, ironically modest'(DG, UK MMPB, p.270)


'Even the priests of Hood argue over the preferred manner in which to finally face their god' (DG, UK MMPB, p.308)


Revenants and Hood


Sweetest Sufferance : The Revenants – who were as good as Hood's own warrior-priests, in the mortal world anyway – well, they were flagellants.  Blood on the skin, life bled out to die on the skin – that was the important detail.  It's why Hood cherishes dead soldiers more than any other of the countless dead that stumble through the gate.  The Merchants of Blood, the Army that will fight on the hidden plain called Defiance Last."  She paused, then licked her lips.  "That's what the Dawn of Flies is about.  A final battle, the dead gathered, on a hidden plain called Defiance Last." (TtH)




'Had he been a religious man, Whiskeyjack would have let blood in Hood’s Bowl, calling upon the shades of his ancestors.'(GotM, UK Trade, p.63)


Hood's Gate


'an arched gateway leading to—Nothing... Twisted...the gate was not...made of stone. Bodies, naked human figures. The figures moved, groaned, slowly writhed in place. Flesh blackened, as if stained with peat, eyes closed and mouths open with faint, endless moans.'(GotM, UK Trade, p.100)


Oponn(male): 'It’s said there was a cult, once, in the habit of drowning victims in bogs . . . I imagine Hood finds them aesthetically pleasing' (GotM, UK Trade, p.100)


The Throne of Ice


The figure on the throne had been frozen, lifeless, for a long, long time. 

A fine shedding of dust from the corpse marked that something had changed.  Ice then crackled.  Steam rose from flesh slowly thickening with life.  The hands, gripping the arms of the throne, suddenly twitched, fingers uncurling.

Light flickered in its pitted eyes.

And, looking out from mortal flesh once more, Hood, who had once been the Lord of Death, found arrayed before him fourteen Jaghut warriors.  They stood in the midst of frozen corpses, weapons out but lowered or resting across shoulders.

One spoke.  "What was that war again?"

The others laughed.

The first one continued,  "Who was that enemy?"

The laughter this time was louder, longer.

"Who was our commander?"

Heads rocked back and the thirteen roared with mirth.

The first speaker shouted,  "Does he live?  Do we?"

Hood slowly rose from the throne, melted ice streaming down his blackened hide.  He stood, and eventually the laughter fell away.  He took one step forward, and then another.

The fourteen warriors did not move.

Hood lowered to one knee, head bowing.  "I seek … penance."

A warrior far to the right said,  "Gathras, he seeks penance.  Do you hear that?"

The first speaker replied.  "I do, Sanad."

"Shall we give it, Gathras?"  another asked.

"Varandas, I believe we shall."


"Yes, Haut?"

"What was that war again?"

The Jaghut howled.


The Hold of Ice redux


"Deadsmell,"  said Balm,  "you've been doing some healing."

"I have, but Widder's right.  It's not fun.  The problem, for me, that is, is that I'm still somehow bound to Hood.  Even though he's, uh, dead.  Don't know why that should be, but the magic when it comes to me, well, it's cold as ice."

Widdershins frowned at Deadsmell.  "Ice, but that makes no sense."

"Hood was a damned Jaghut, so yes, it does.  And no, it doesn't, because he's … well, gone."  (TCG)


"I'm thinking Deadsmell's not using Hood's warren anymore.  I'm thinking it must be Omtose Phellack."