The celestial is made up of seven metal wings fused together at a central, spherical core. Along the arch of each limb is scrolled a name of one of the seven heavens. The wrackwing's feathers are cast from brass, gold, platinum, and silver and when the sun hits the creature just right it shines like the gateway to beyond itself. The angel's core is covered in small, lidless eyes. When attacking the wrackwing is a blur of sharpened feathers and glinting metal that moves so fast not a drop of spilled blood ever mars its perfection. Sanctified Sadist. To say that wrackwing enjoys the suffering of others would not be quite accurate. The celestial simply understands that mortals are doomed to lives of agony and when it is called to visit them it is because divinity demands they experience greater anguish. It uses its wings to dole out the correct dose of torment to each it meets, sometimes unto death if the mortal's sins are grave enough. In its heart, the angel hopes tho...

Elegant and terrifying, the sanguisuge appears to be an empty funeral shroud at first glance. Whenever the celestial moves the afterimage of a gaunt, sunken angel appears within the tattered cloth complete with mangy wings. When seen, the sanguisuge's features are stretched tight with pain, eyes hardened with resolve. Some witnesses observe that its legs tapper off into muscle on which maggots writhe within. Though, its its legs actually end with spectral shins and feet. Likewise, the angel's weapon cannot be seen until it is already in motion. The head of the axe the sanguisuge wields is cast from its plucked feathers, dipped in the heavenly gold before being set into place. No doubt the silver-gilded bones of the weapon's haft came from its legs. Two Feet in the Grave. The sanguisuges are driven by a divine hatred of the undead that will never waver. The angelic order has gone so far as to walk through the waters of the River Akheron until their lower legs withered...

The lower half of this celestial is fashioned after a six-legged horse and crafted from porcelain, ivory, gold and silver. Sparks fly from its iron hooves with every step. Despite its delicate appearance, however, this chassis wards off all but the most powerful of blows. The sagittary's upper half appears to be humanoid, but is swathed so entirely by bloodied bandages that one cannot be sure what lays beneath. That is save for a singular bloodshot eye, either left or right, that watches from the bandages. The celestial brandishes a latticework lance in which a shooting star is captured, forever plummeting. Planar Martyr. Tales say that each sagittarion burned its body and lost its legs as they saved fragments from the first star to ever die. In doing so, this order of angels hoped to forever forestall the entropy that will one day consume the universe. In modern times the sagittarions continue their futile struggle. They defend life wherever they find it from the simplest i...

Seven wheels of fire revolve within one another in an endlessly spinning globe of flame. Countless, lidless eyes cover each of the wildgyre's blazing drums. Each orb stares with an intensity which wilts even the strongest will. The inside of each disk is lined with scorched gold on which the seven gravest crimes in creation are etched, along with the punishment for each. These penalties all carry the same sentence; immolation. When You Only Have a Torch... The wildgyre sees all but only sees one solution for everything; burn it down. These celestials are more temperamental than most other heavenly creatures. They are also more active on the mortal planes as they seek to burn away corruption wherever they might find it. It is not uncommon for even the good souls of a world to grow tired of a wildgyre's explosive tendencies. More than a few are mystical bound throughout the multiverse so they cannot continue to spread destruction, no matter how good intentioned that might be...

The size of a holy tome, the quarto drifts through the air on its own accord. Its ornate, metallic surface incorporates geometrically-impossible shapes that spiral into one another with a baroque elegance. Its hinges are miniature, silver wings embossed with fully-functional eyes. When moving, the celestial opens up to its illuminated pages. Its disembodied voice proselytizes the timeless words inked there. While it has a red, silken bookmark, the quarto never needs it to keep its place. Instead the fabric strip dangles like a tail. Timeless Scholar. A quarto is a record all that has been and all that is. As such, it cannot be easily destroyed. Only the most powerful magic can extinguish it entirely. Celestials, especially other quarto, view obliterating one of these record keepers as a most vile acts and will relentlessly hunt down those that do so. A quarto does not only keep records of all it and its brethren observe, but can conjure forth long-extinct creatures and heavenly al...

Mortals find it hard to gaze upon the glory of this celestial. Some say that it shimmers with a golden light not meant for the eyes of the living, others claim the perfection of its body is so painful that humanoid minds simply cannot comprehend it. Oddly, though, the goldbrine may not have a body as we know it at all. Those that have the willpower to perceive its form describe a tall seven-sided prism of golden crystal housed a humanoid set of likewise auric plate armor. The armor's helmet is molded after a beautiful face, it's breastplate muscled to physical perfection. Yet, neither actually attach to the goldbrine's elegant pauldrons, gauntlets, boots or greaves save by crawling strands of golden light emanating from the central crystal. Even the angel's wings are artificial, but immaculately articulated, constructs of gold. A single eye floats within the celestial's crystal core, drifting to whatever facet its focus is needed. Civilization Killer. Sometimes...

Spindly and androgenous, the towering celestial wears a pure-white blindfold despite the fact its head is nothing more than a free-floating golden mask cast with a disapproving frown. One massive set of golden wings sprouts from the magistrate's sharp shoulders with two smaller sets of silver fluttering above and below. The outsider is adorned in a gossamer robe in which distant, dying stars twinkle. Its malnourished body can easily be seen through the translucent fabric whenever the light hits it right. Manacles with broken chains adorn each of the judge's ankles. Angelic Arbiter. Justice is blind and so is the typhlotic magistrate. The celestial is without both compassion and corruption. Its only duty is to consider allegations brought before it and passing judgement in accordance with a cosmic sense of justice instead of vengeance. However, this cosmic sense of justice is not always in accordance to mortal morality. At times, the typhlotic magistrate's dictates ca...