말레딕션 공식 로어 프라이머Malediction Official Lore Primer

The world is dying, and it hungers for vengeance.

Wounded by the transgressions of a previous age, the Great Ymiris, the world spirit, writhes in its tortured death throes, bleeding accursed magic into reality, corrupting not just the land, but the creatures that live upon it and the nature of time and space itself.

And yet, the lure of power is too much for some to ignore. For, close to the site of this heinous injury, lost amongst the wreckage of ancient civilizations, lay eldritch secrets and long-forgotten magic that could turn the tide of battle amongst warring factions… and lead to either salvation or the utter destruction of the world.

Expeditions, raised by the great factions that vie for power in this realm, delve deep into the maelstrom of this calamity eons in the making, risking everything to explore the poisoned heart of their blighted world.

Inside this tumultuous landscape, the sky itself is fractured, and foul creatures haunt the ruins of a lost age. Even the land is mutable, shifting and rewriting itself as the dying entity seeks to exert its remaining power upon the surface of the world, ridding itself of the wretched scourge of life.

Here, the Seekers who lead these expeditions must face the relentless warbands of their foes, all the while shouldering the burden of the great Legacies they bear. These artifacts are infused with the ancient souls of heroes and villains alike, the chosen and the bane of the Everlasting gods.

All seek the Relics of the past age. All seek power untold. All will be undone.

Their only recourse against the dying of the light is to venture ever further into the maelstrom. To step into the shadow of a dying god. Into the Malediction.

Lonely in the endless void, Ymiris, the Spirit that is the World, the All-Mother, sought to raise others like herself, molding the First Children from the very core of her soul. She breathed life into her creations and saw promise in their first steps, for while they were young and naive, they had the benefit of time and were infinitely adaptable.

As the First Children began to flourish, they drew on Ymiris’ essence—her flesh, the ground beneath their feet; her breath, the very air they breathed. They could feel her presence, even if they could not see her, and, through their dreams, she came to know the truth of their souls. Proud of their growth, Ymiris bestowed upon them knowledge of magic. As she touched their essence, they were enlightened and learned how to manipulate the power of her soul, which permeates all creation.

So, too, did they learn to harness their own souls, and, wielding this great gift, they set about exploring the world around them. They named this world Agnar, after the word for ‘flesh’ in their tongue, for the land they walked upon was the body of their goddess. Everywhere they went, they saw beauty, for their souls were in harmony with Ymiris, and this deep connection with their maker granted them the longest of lives.

Millennia passed, and the world knew peace for a time, as the First Children forged vast civilizations and erected great monuments to honor their goddess. They spoke of philosophy and sought answers to the great mysteries of creation. And yet, in their eagerness to understand all of Ymiris’ majesty, one of them, Myrkos, delved too deep and there uncovered the darkest of all truths: Ymiris’ love for her children was not unconditional, and her demands were absolute. Through the window of their dreams, she was ever evaluating and judging their souls, ready to scour the world clean of life and begin anew if her children were found wanting. Overwhelmed, Myrkos assembled a council in the great city of Olem, bringing together twelve of the wisest and most powerful leaders, mages, and warriors to share in his bleak understanding. Together, these Thirteen came to a grim accord. They could not conceive of allowing the life and death of millions to be left to the whim of a capricious god. They could not risk Ymiris’ judgment.

So it was that the Thirteen conceived the construction of a great and terrible weapon, the Thorn of Olem, that would bind Ymiris, committing her to a deep slumber and thus preventing her from ever passing judgment on her creations. This weapon would require the efforts of all Thirteen. Molech, Architect of Secrets, would design it. Galdrun, Shaper of Mountains, would build it. But the hardest task fell to Ymiris’ favourite child, Avakra, the Dreaming Warrior, who would lie to the All-Mother, casting a glamor to shield the dreams of the Thirteen and obfuscate the truth of their souls. So it was that their terrible plan remained hidden.

And so, the plan was put in motion, and it fell upon the Thirteen and their followers to erect the Thorn, and for nigh on a thousand years they set about their grim task.

In time, the Thorn of Olem was completed, and, resolute, the Thirteen faced their duty. They activated the weapon from a chamber high above Olem, driving the tip of the Thorn down through the physical world and deep into its spiritual heart.

This piercing of the veil caused Ymiris to writhe in rage and pain, as the Thorn bled her of her soul’s Echo. Yet, her eyes now open to the truth, the greatest pain she felt that day was the sorrow of betrayal. In retaliation, she unleashed a storm of titanic magical energies that the Thirteen fought to harness, weaving it into a spell of binding and forcing the All-Mother into a deep, senseless sleep. This would become known as the Great Wounding.

Yet the immense power needed to accomplish this task was so great, and Ymiris’ anger so potent, that every citizen of Olem was obliterated in the process. Such was the burden placed upon their shoulders that the Thirteen had traded hundreds of thousands of their siblings so that millions more might live. The Thirteen themselves were saved from this fate, for, being at the eye of the storm, they were bathed in the gushing lifeblood of Ymiris as it sprang from the site of the wound. Such was their mastery of magic that they wove this powerful Echo into themselves, absorbing it so that it might sustain them, and thus grant them power unimaginable.

In the wake of their deed, the Thirteen looked upon their great work, and they were relieved. The danger had passed, and now the First Children were free from the looming specter of armageddon.

Yet there is ever a cost to such victories, and, cut off from Ymiris’ gifts, the remaining First Children would now be subject to the vagaries of mortal life. They were free, but their immortality was no more. Only the Thirteen, steeped in the power of Ymiris’ Echo, might sustain themselves indefinitely. Only they might outlive the generations that would come in their wake.

So it was that the Thirteen became known to history as the Everlasting.

As the painful knowledge of the Curse of Death became widespread in the aftermath of the Great Wounding, the Thirteen Everlasting faced a time of turmoil, as they struggled to help their brethren come to terms with their newfound mortality. Imbued with the power they had taken from Ymiris, they began to shape the world, establishing themselves as great and impassioned leaders. In their wisdom, they guided their people towards an unprecedented time of peace and prosperity that lasted for millennia.

Yet time not only heals, but fosters disagreement and allows resentment to fester, and—now free of the looming threat of Ymiris’ wrath—fractures began to form within the cabal of the Thirteen. A great diaspora saw many of the Everlasting and their followers depart the city of Olem to establish new nations, where their ideals would shape the law of the land and the very flesh of their people. First, as an attempt to end the Curse of Death, but then as a means to better the short lives of their people, making them more fruitful in all their endeavors, the Everlasting reshaped the First Children into new forms. The erisyr people came to be during this time, as well as many others.

Olem—risen from the ashes of the Great Wounding to become the most prosperous city to ever grace Selejia— was claimed by Oster and his two compatriots, Valcaris and Expiatra. This Triumvirate of Everlasting agreed to remain in Olem, to oversee and protect the Thorn, and to rule wisely over the people of a new kingdom: the Astarian Paradux.

Yet not all were convinced of the motives of their kin. As many of the Everlasting came to be heralded as gods by their people, Avakra had come to regret her part in the Great Wounding and preached freedom for Ymiris, believing that she would come to forgive all who had remained true to her. Avakra had long departed Selejia to the Northern lands beyond the Pale Expanse, and she had used this time to gather followers to her cause. When the Dreaming-Warrior returned to Selejia, she was followed by an army of the oerikan. She denounced the Olem Triumvirate as the jailers of Ymiris, and in retribution, they conspired to execute her before she could rally the other Everlasting against them. The Triumvirate trapped and bound their sister’s soul in an artifact— the Heart of Avakra—knowing that one day, they might need her power to once again activate the Thorn. This would become the first of the Everlasting Vestiges.

Appalled by the travesty of Avakra’s murder, the remaining Everlasting began to sharpen their own blades, aware now of the fallibility of their own immortality. Borders were drawn, armies were quietly assembled, and the entirety of Agnar was balanced on the precipice of a war between the gods.

The Advent of War

As tensions rose, the Olem Triumvirate made preparations of their own. They commissioned another of the Thirteen, Galdrun, the Shaper of Mountains, to construct an immense wall around their kingdom, encapsulating both the city and the Thorn. They infused this wall with magic drawn from their own souls, enchanting it to repel all invaders. Not long after this great work was completed, bitter enmity and border skirmishes eventually gave way to all-out war, as the Triumvirate chose to strike down the Great City of Abysola.

Meanwhile, the other Everlasting forged and broke alliances amongst themselves as their peoples went to war. They developed ever more inventive ways of wreaking death and destruction upon one another, crafting new magical weapons and seeking ever deeper sources of power from which to draw.

Foremost amongst these weapons were the Legacies. These uniquely powerful artifacts were created from the souls of the Everlasting’s most loyal followers, employing the same terrible magic that had been used against Avakra. The use of these souls as the core of the Legacies enabled the wisdom, strength, and power to be shared with their future bearers —and ensured the weapon could never be turned against their Everlasting masters.

And yet, powerful as they were, the number of Legacies would never be enough, for the souls that could empower them were rare, and the needs of war were copious. The Everlasting and their followers used the raw power of Ymiris to forge magical Relics to aid their troops. Unlike Legacies, Relics were filled with the raw Echo of Ymiris, a resource the Everlasting had in abundance, but lacked the souls that ensured their loyalty. Consequently, they changed hands innumerable times during the thaumaturgical conflict that engulfed the many nations of the world.

Seeing this, and fearing their own destruction, the Triumvirate took their most desperate step yet, harnessing the Echo of Ymiris to create a new kind of soldier—relentless, short-lived, and violent. These perfect soldiers were given a name that would resonate through all the future ages of the world: Humans.

As war engulfed Agnar, many kingdoms of the Everlasting buckled and fell, as their leaders were toppled by their errant kin. Some Everlasting were killed by their brethren, their souls bound into Vestiges, while others fled, defeated, disappearing from history, never to be heard from again.

Avakra’s lost children–those of the primal bloodline–fought on for centuries, with a fierceness born of vengeance and fiery righteousness. In time, however, they were subjugated and laid low by the might of the Astarian Paradux. It was said that the rivers ran red with their spilled blood, and that the world itself shook as Ymiris cried for their loss. Even the dead of the Legion trembled in fear of the goddess’s retribution. Those who were not massacred were subsumed into the empire, becoming a caste of untouchables, without leadership or direction.

When Oster, leader of the Triumvirate, was murdered by an assassin’s blade, all the Everlasting trembled in fear as they learned that he had been struck down by a mere mortal. A mortal wielding a Legacy. They had inadvertently created the means of their own destruction, for a Legacy, imbued with the souls of its previous bearers, could render the would-be gods vulnerable. Just as the Thirteen had given of themselves to create the Thorn of Olem, so had their followers, by giving of themselves, created weapons that might lay low their masters. In the aftermath of this great crime, the remaining two members of the Triumvirate renamed the great city of Olem as ‘Osterath’.

The Scourer, an Everlasting reviled by all others, had assailed Molech and his people many times, but had always been driven back by their spellcraft. In reckless desperation, the Scourer awoke the ancient giants. These living siege weapons had been created by the Thirteen to help construct the Thorn, and had lain dormant since the Great Wounding. Their might was such that even their creators had cast them away once their task was complete, in fear of their power but unable to destroy them completely. The giants crossed the Churning Sea, pulling Molech from atop his tower and casting him into the deep waters from which he never returned.

As the war took its toll on the remaining Everlasting and their peoples, a pact was made by all those who still opposed the Triumvirate, fearful of the power in their midst. A decade-long campaign saw these combined forces break through the Wall of Galdrun and lay siege to Osterath, culminating in a single, fateful day.

After millennia of infighting, even the Everlasting had lost sight of why the ground they battled upon was held sacred, and the danger their bloodshed posed to the world they fought to control. Blinded by their desire for justice or vengeance, by their lust for power and control, the Everlasting unwittingly murdered the world of old, and from its carcass was born the great horror that haunts Agnar still.

The truth of what occurred that day has been long lost to history, but the devastating impact of those events shattered the very fabric of reality. Some believe that the invaders attacked the Thorn of Olem itself, weakening the magical seals that bound Ymiris in her great sleep. Others argue that, in their desperation, the Triumvirate attempted to activate the Thorn, intending to draw power from the seals to use against their enemies, but without all thirteen of the Everlasting to control the weapon, the attempt resulted in disaster.

Whatever truly happened, the seals that bound Ymiris were weakened, and the All-Mother writhed in her sleep, causing a torrent of Echo to erupt from the Great Wound, flooding the realm of the Triumvirate like an immense tidal wave.

Corrupted by Ymiris’ rage and pain, this surge of magical energy devastated everything it touched, a tumult of destruction and mutation, warping the very land and all the creatures that lived upon it. It is said that over a million people were obliterated in a single moment, mercifully killed outright, or else transformed into strange entities beyond mortal ken.

The tide of this corruptive energy was only stopped by the sacrifice of one Everlasting, Galdrun, who, according to vulkir legend, gave himself to save the rest of the world. Crafting his own soul into a spell to empower the great walls around the Astarian Paradux he sealed the corruption within, turning the stone itself into an Everlasting Vestige.

The area inside the walls—a festering wound in reality, now inhabited only by those who had been touched by the poisoned Echo of Ymiris—was shunned by those lucky enough to have found themselves outside the Wall, as a place of dread and death.

The cataclysm was witnessed by all of Selejia, and felt across the world. The wound it left would never heal, and many great treasures, Relics and Legacies were lost within its boundaries.

Fuelled by Ymiris’ embittered cries for freedom and her need to cleanse the world of the rot of all life, this roiling storm of chaos soon came to be known as the Malediction.

The Malediction

“I led the Oster’s Dragoons away from the Wall of Galdrum, the few that remained of the XVII company… We rode desperately to call for reinforcements, to spread the word of the fall of Osterath. That’s when I heard it! A thunderous, horrible sound that shook me to my soul… The world darkened, the earth’s veins ruptured and bled, and the sky spewed its stars like vermin upon the world… My gods, my lords, what have you done?” —Taken from the mind of an ancient corpse, in the bowels of the Epitaph.

With the site of the Great Wounding at its epicenter, this tempest of vile magic became the domain of Ymiris’ wrath, as she wished to wipe the slate clean and begin afresh, bringing an end to the progeny that she had once set loose upon its surface. As the Malediction roiled, the laws of physicality, time, and space became unstable. Inside its boundaries, the skies shattered, stars tumbling at the echo of Ymiris’ cries. Creatures born of her rage crawled from the site of the wound to stalk the land, hunting those who still survived.

The world was stricken by an Age of Strife, in which magic became tumultuous, unreliable, and the land was afflicted by a swathe of natural disasters, as the ripples of Ymiris’ wrath reverberated across oceans and continents. In the aftermath, many civilizations lay devastated, the survivors brought to their knees. It was a time of great mourning and slow rebuilding, as the sparse population was left to fend for itself. If any Everlasting had survived the Fall, they had now retreated to hide, shamefaced, from the consequences of what they had wrought.

Cut off from the rest of Agnar during the events of the Fall, the survivors of Selejia began to slowly rebuild. New cities grew from the ashes of those that had burned. Gradually, fledgling nations rose, and the population began to recover. And, in time, their eyes turned to the Malediction, the great wound in the fabric of reality that twisted and writhed, whispering promises of knowledge, riches, and power.

For centuries, the Malediction had proved deadly, impassable, but as the great nations grew in strength and number, their leaders hungered for the treasures of the ancients that still lay inside. The remnants of the Astarian Paradux sent in ten thousand soldiers to reclaim their lost empire, but none would return. The ensuing centuries saw many brave the Malediction, but those who entered were never seen again, presumed dead. Until a criminal, condemned to traverse the bleak realm as punishment, achieved what great lords and powerful mages could not. Unlike the many thousands sent before her, she survived, emerging triumphant and free, endowed with the power of a Legacy. She was known as Veloma, and the greatest free city of Selejia still bears her name. This miracle ushered in the dawning of a new age of exploration: the Age of Legacy.

Emboldened by Veloma’s success, the power-hungry and the brave found further ways to breach the Malediction’s boundary and face the horrors within, searching for the Relics of a lost age and the understanding to wield them. While Ymiris’ rage has never abated, in time, the people of Selejia found less-deadly routes into the maelstrom at the heart of their land.

But something began to change. The Malediction started to ebb and flow, changing like the seasons, to the tune of Ymiris’ heartbeat. Each time it does, it reveals new secrets that had lain dormant for millennia. In the rush to claim such treasures, to harness the power they promised, the great nations began to sponsor expeditions into the maelstrom and joined in bitter conflict with all who would oppose them. Even as the world struggled forth to a new age, it could not run towards the future until it broke free from the shackles of its past.

Into the Malediction

It is the Age of Legacy, and the Malediction has existed for more than a thousand years, serving as a warning to most, and a beacon to others. Contained only by the Wall of Galdrun—an ancient edifice that could falter at any moment—it is a scar visible to every nation. A constant reminder of the near-death of the world. And yet the lure of the Malediction, the promise of the bounty and secrets contained within, is too much to ignore.

Few amongst the people of Selejia have the strength to brave its torments. Seekers, the leaders of the expeditions into the Malediction—some aligned with the great nations, others with goals that are entirely their own—are drawn by the siren call of the uncharted land. Assembling small forces composed of those who are either fervent enough, or desperate enough, to join such perilous undertakings, they delve into the darkness in search of truth and power. Such lofty ambitions might be obtained through ancient Relics and Legacies, rare magical items that imbue the wielder with the secrets of the Everlasting.

The ways into the Malediction are treacherous and well-guarded. Each is held by either one of the great nations or those with the power to rival them. Inside, past Seekers have identified Anchors—stable locations that might be reliably reached and used as a point of navigation—but these are only the first step in one’s journey through the Malediction. Navigation within the zone is still more art than science, and those who wish to explore beyond the Anchors must be ready to court death.

To walk within the realm of the Malediction is to tread in uncertainty. Here, the skies bloom with deadly storms, raining blood upon the parched ground, and distant worlds can be momentarily glimpsed through cracks in the fabric of reality. To breathe the air of the Malediction is to allow the putrid magic in. Some find their very thoughts overcome, twisted into patterns of strange hallucinations, as if they were witnesses to the inconceivable dreams of Ymiris herself. Others see their bodies slowly changing, metamorphosing until they are akin to the other forms of twisted fauna that inhabit the blighted zone. Still others begin to perceive time and space differently, as if granted a peek into some alternate continuum from which their intellect may never return.

Those who die within the confines of the Wall of Galdrun while wielding a Relic are turned into Husks— unthinking, lifeless shells, still clutching the Relic in preparedness for the next unwary traveler. Some claim this is Ymiris’ revenge enacted, lashing out against those who would steal her power.

All of the relevant powers of Selejia, from the City-States to the major factions, know that the Malediction may very well hold the secret to achieving their ultimate goals, be they of salvation or destruction. More importantly, the power inside must not be allowed to fall into the hands of their enemies.

Most populous amongst all the disparate lands of Agnar is the continent of Selejia, a huge landmass upon which the Malediction festers like an open sore, its dangers bound—for now, at least—within the confines of the Wall of Galdrun. Beyond the wall, Selejia is rife with political intrigue, sporadic conflict and the warring philosophies of its four great nations, all of whom have designs upon the Malediction and the ancient power that can be found inside of it.

From the seat of their empire in the city of Astaris, the Order of the Shattered Throne seek to rebuild what was lost, hungry to reclaim the glory days of the Astarian Paradux and expand their reach, no matter the consequences.

Nestled in their laboratories on their island archipelago, the Conclave of the Spheres, driven by their insatiable curiosity, delve recklessly into the secrets of Liastrum, an alternate source of magic they hope will grant them dominance and control over all.

Marching out from their sylvan homelands, the Primal Blood wreak death and destruction upon those who would continue the work of the Everlasting. They seek to put right the wrongs of the past—and if civilization must burn for Ymiris to be freed, then so be it.

To the South, the Legion of the Fallen knows death for the Curse that it is, inflicted upon mortal-kind by those who first bound Ymiris. They seek the means to overcome this affliction entirely, to turn their cheek to death in all its facets and rule immortal across the land.

Each of these great nations understands that the key to their victory—and survival—lies deep within the blistering confines of the Malediction, and that only the Seekers, those valiant few brave enough to plunder the depths of that unnatural darkness, might lead them to their ultimate prize.

And yet others beyond these nations still eke out an existence in Selejia, from those who traverse the Golden Road, to those in the free city-states that pepper the land. Others border the Malediction itself, serving as neutral ground in which Seekers who wish to mount expeditions into the unknown realm replenish their provisions, and hire mercenaries to join them in their quest.

Selejia is a place of clashing arms, warring politics, deadly adventure, and bleak malfeasance, a continent on the brink of war, damnation, or perhaps, salvation.

The Exalted Everlasting of the Triumvirate, Oster, Valcaris, and Expiatra, once led their divine brethren to make battle against the cruel Ymiris, their goddess and creator, saving the world from utter destruction. With the World Spirit defeated and bound, the people required a guiding hand to maintain order and to lead them on the path to enlightenment. The Triumvirate proclaimed that, where Ymiris saw failure in her creations, they saw only the potential for greatness. They took upon themselves the burden of leadership, founding what would, in time, flourish to become a great empire known as the Astarian Paradux. Alas, their dream of a perfect world was destroyed by the Fall, and where the hallowed halls of their empire once stood, now only the Malediction remains.

The Order of the Shattered Throne is the direct successor to the Astarian Paradux; its members descended from the survivors of that fallen empire. In the last days before the Fall, Valcaris, the Blessed Voice, entrusted a number of his followers with the Shards of the Throne of Oster, a powerful artifact that contained the Vestige of the murdered leader of the Triumvirate. These Lucidi, the chosen “enlightened ones”, were spirited away, beyond the reach of the besiegers, so that the glorious kingdom of the Triumvirate might be reborn. They settled in the northern land of Dynas, where the last strongholds of the empire still held, manned by the Knights of Charn.

When the Fall almost rent the world asunder, the capital city of Osterath was lost, along with all those who stayed to defend it. Even the Everlasting could not escape this dire fate. The great empire of the Triumvirate was shattered, with only a handful of distant outposts, such as Dynas, surviving the destruction.

During the Age of Strife that followed the Fall, the Lucidi and the Knightly orders came together, gathering the surviving faithful from across the continent to rebuild. They swore to one day reclaim what had been taken from them, to mend what had been broken, and to seek the return of the Triumvirate through their ancient Vestiges.

The leaders of this new kingdom divided themselves into ‘rites’, to better oversee the needs of the people, and to ensure the faithful remained true to their path. Thus was the Order of the Shattered Throne born.

The Order is organized into seven Rites, each being at once a sect of the church and a division of government. These Rites are composed of a mixture of military and religious elements, but the balance between them varies depending on the Rite. The Rite of the Forge, preoccupied with infrastructure and fortifications, tends to focus its military power on guards and sentinels, manning the walls and seeing to the Order’s defenses. The Rite of Honor mounts great expeditions beyond Dynas, deploying their military in an effort to reconquer the continent. Within such Rites, the religious aspects of the Order play a smaller—but no less important—role. Conversely, the Rite of Valcaris contains many priests of the Oathbound Light and fewer soldiers.

Each of the Rites is led by one of the Lucidi, those bound to shards of Oster’s Throne. This council of seven leads the Order, but they shun public appearance and operate chiefly through trusted representatives who speak in their stead. These are the Septas, and they are the de facto leaders of the Order.

The Rite of Honor is one of the three most prominent Rites within the Order, intent as it is on conquest, subjugation, and the fulfillment of the Order’s goals. For that reason, it is composed largely of the knightly orders—such as the Knights of Charn—as well as many explorers and Legacy bearers, such as Seekers who delve deep into the Malediction.

The overseers of civic law and order, the Rite of Law is the main bureaucratic institution within the larger Order. They balance the scales of justice within the empire, delivering that justice quickly and efficiently, and ensuring compliance within the populace. They are bound by ancient tradition and ritual, and view themselves as the most recent in a long line of governance stretching back to the Triumvirate itself.

Religious zealots, those of the Rite of Valcaris, uphold the teachings of the Everlasting, preaching the word of Valcaris to whoever will hear it. They ensure the salvation of the faithful and the conversion of the heathen, overseeing the absorption of conquered peoples into the Order. They serve as diplomats to other nations, mediating disputes and proclaiming the glory of the Order for all to hear.

Of the remaining Rites, the Rite of the Forge oversees the construction of new fortifications and outposts, while the Rite of Clarity seeks to understand and protect the secrets and Relics of the past. The Rite of the Penitent brings cleansing flame to the unbelievers and works to uncover the truth of the enemy, while the Rite of the Ophanim seeks enlightenment through the Hallowed, intent on finding the perfect vessels for the Triumvirates’ return.

People and Phenomena

Epher, the Setting Sun — An oath sworn to the Order binds one utterly and dreadfully. When Epher’s mortal body fell in battle, his comrades and followers burned it, according to the old customs, so that his soul could rejoin the Everlasting. Upon the next twilight, Epher arose, bound to his own ashes, a Revenant on the battlefield, intent on fulfilling his oaths.

Revalis Penitent — For the Order, some blasphemies are so great that they corrupt one’s body beyond the mercy of the Church. The Rite of the Penitent offers redemption through a final act of service. A transgressor is locked in a set of armor, anointed with holy oil, and set ablaze. The flames of Expiatra purify the body, so that the soul may be freed from the stain of sin that permeates the flesh. The sacred fumes that arise abate the suffering faithful and condemn the wicked.

Truestone Exemplar — In the aftermath of the Fall, with their numbers decimated by their sacrifices, most vulkir returned to their ancestral homeland, Midrasil, intent on protecting it from the dark times ahead. Centuries later, both Midrasil and its legendary protector, Onyx Hammerhaft, would fall, brought low by Thundersteps and the ravenous plague that seeped from him.

Herald of Salvation — The most fervently devout among the faithful are chosen to be blessed by the Ophanim, becoming the Hallowed. These beings, infused with the Oathbound Light, become living weapons of the Order. They trade their individuality for the blessed existence of a vessel that could one day hold the soul of an Everlasting.

In their Golden Age, the Triumvirate drank deep from the lifeblood of Ymiris. They used the Echo of the goddess’s soul to empower themselves and their followers, as well as to create powerful magical artifacts, Relics, and Legacies. When the Fall took place, Ymiris’ cries of anguish and rage corrupted the Echo of the world, and this source of magical power was lost. The Order plans to one day reclaim the Thorn of Olem, the weapon the Everlasting used to bleed Ymiris of her power, but they quickly realized that, until they achieve this goal, they would have to draw their magic from elsewhere. Fortunately, they understand that, weak as they may be as individuals, true power lies in unity, in an entire people making sacrifices for the greater good. So it was that the Order came to a relatively abundant source of magic, one untainted by the Fall: the souls of the faithful servants of the Everlasting.

The Oathbound Light

Every member of the Order will make oaths of service and loyalty to the Everlasting, to their death—and beyond. These oaths are part of an ancient magical pact, developed by the Rite of Valcaris, and enforced by the will of the Everlasting. Thousands upon thousands of people tithe a piece of their own souls to the Oathbound Light, a pool of power available for use by a select few. Those who die while in service to the Order are granted the honor of joining the Oathbound Light one final time, giving of themselves entirely. The Oathbound Light can technically be accessed by any person who has been soulbound to it, but in practice, only the Clergy and a handful of other selected faithful are permitted to draw on its benefits. The magic of the Oathbound Light is one focused on protection and healing, with very few being able to wield the Light to harm others. That being said, some have noticed the Word of Valcaris does not explain all aspects of the Light. There are those who are blessed with extremely long lives by the Light— generally higher-ranking members of the Rites— while others seem to be cursed with suspiciously shortened life-spans. The fact that those whose lives were cut short tend to be discordant voices that oppose the status quo or propose changes that would disrupt the greater good is simply a sign of the displeasure of the Everlasting. Or so the Rites swear. When the Rite of Honor declares a crusade, entire villages may be called to martyr themselves, greatly boosting the Oathbound Light. This is a reality even the faithful discuss in hushed tones. The miracles the priests perform are real for all to see, and many beyond Dynas have pledged their own souls to the Oathbound Light. In more than one way, with each new soul that returns to the fold, the power of the Order and of the Oathbound Light grows.

People and Phenomena

Rites of Healing — Throughout their lives, many oaths bind the faithful of the Order to the will of the Everlasting. When the priests of different Rites come together, they can perform miracles that none could dream of by themselves. This fact reinforces the Order’s belief that, when the shards of the Throne are brought together, a new golden age will dawn.

Echo of Sarstan — To give oneself truly, flesh and soul, might be a painful path to follow. The prayers of the Sarstanite priests ensure these sacrifices will be made, knowingly or not. Each guards the anointed blood of warriors on battlefields far away, and through it guarantees that loyalty will be absolute.

Healing Light — Many a death has been denied by Valcarist Priests, who, with no more than a touch, restored a faithful on the verge of death back to full vigor. This touch, however, leaves a mark in one’s soul, unseen by the eyes of those untrained in the Oathbound Light’s magic. The priests see such marks as a sign of favor, of a death held at bay— until their oaths are fulfilled.

Rites of Might — Millennia ago, the Everlasting created the Legacies by infusing legendary artifacts with the souls of their worthiest followers, so that their will and power could carry on. Unbeknownst to them, the Order is able to replicate a fraction of this process through the Oathbound Light, imbuing their weapons with the souls of the faithful and granting them a miraculous power, albeit for a short time.

Throughout the forests of Paxos, warriors of the kiths gather around the campfire. Berserkers sharpen their blades, flay their quarry, and devour the flesh of the hunt, while shamans chant stories of Avakra, the Dreaming Warrior, daughter of Ymiris, and first of the Primal Blood.

Avakra was the closest of her siblings to Ymiris, seeing beauty in all her mother’s creations. In the aftermath of the Great Wounding, Avakra could not bear the guilt of the Everlasting’s betrayal. She broke away from the others, believing now that she had acted in grave error. Striking out for the north, Avakra fled the grasp of her siblings, taking with her a great number of the First Children. There, Avakra formed a new nation, far beyond Selejia. She named this new land Oeri, and those who had followed her named themselves the oerikan.

Avakra remained deeply connected to the slumbering Ymiris, and she alone could hear the goddess calling out to her in her dreams. She could feel the pain, wrath, and sorrow of the All-Mother. Fuelled by these visions, Avakra gathered her followers, preaching against the Triumvirate and urging the oerikan to help her free Ymiris.

Avakra believed that in her great wisdom, Ymiris would spare all those who had remained loyal to her. But as the visions grew increasingly intense, so too did Avakra’s zeal. Assembling a huge army, she set out for Selejia, intent on storming Olem and freeing Ymiris to remake the world.

Yet the Triumvirate, wise to Avakra’s plans, struck first, murdering the Dreaming Warrior before she could command her followers to strike. They forged her soul into the first of the Everlasting Vestiges, the Heart of Avakra. The place where Avakra’s blood was spilled became known as Avakra’s Dusk.

The oerikan fought on valiantly, but were eventually subjugated by the Triumvirate. They were taken to Olem, where they were stripped of their freedom, culture, and pride. Nominally subjects of the Astarian Paradux, they were treated as second-class citizens in every respect, and in the centuries that followed, they were eroded as a people. They would not be free again until the final years of the Everlasting War, when one amongst them, Octna, found the means to commune with the Heart of Avakra, which granted him visions and power enough to raise a rebellion. The oerikan people followed this Warrior-Prophet and broke free of the Triumvirate, taking the Everlasting Vestige with them.

Octna led the oerikan to Avakra’s Dusk and there buried the Heart in the body of a fallen giant, hopeful that the ever-healing flesh might prove fertile ground for her soul to take root. In that sacred place, a great tree sprouted from the parched earth. The roots of the tree drank deeply from the power of the Dreaming-Warrior, and its fruit sustained the people, body and soul. Through Octna, Avakra’s wisdom flowed to the people, and through Avakra’s Heart, Ymiris’ power flowed once again to her progeny. Octna taught the oerikan of the Takras of Stone and Spirit, the paths to communion with the All-Mother, for he knew he could not remain with them forever. After leading his people through the first century of the Age of Strife, his body started to fail him, and the Warrior-Prophet departed to join with the All-Mother.

Yet even with the threat of the Everlasting now gone, all was not at peace within the hearts of the oerikan. Without the uniting will of a true, visionary leader, Octna’s closest followers fell upon one another, unable to agree on the correct interpretations of his teachings. The Primal Blood fractured into many hundreds of Kiths.

While the Kiths remain a fractured people, they are united in their cause to free Ymiris, and are urged by Avakra to continue to delve ever deeper into the unsteady darkness of the Malediction to accomplish this aim. Many amongst the Primal Blood believe Avakra to be a wise progenitor, a guiding hand that steers their people towards salvation. Others believe her to be a corrupting influence, infecting them with her misplaced zeal and driving them towards extinction.

Each Kith of the Primal Blood is unique, but there remains commonality in the way they are structured. A Kith is generally divided into two castes. The warriors are known as the berserker caste, while the spellcasters and spiritual leaders form the shaman caste. Both the berserkers and the shamans follow the teachings of Avakra but each traces a different path towards greatness.

The Berserkers follow the Takra of Stone, the path of death before defeat, and the righteousness of might. They are the body of the Primal Blood, always on the frontline of battles and ready to taste the spoils of victory and defeat alike. The berserkers are charged with overseeing the Trial of Stone. By defeating an enemy greater than themselves, any warrior, even an outsider, may prove their worth in the eyes of Ymiris.

The Shamans follow the Takra of Spirit, the path of communion with Avakra and Ymiris. They summon the power of the All-Mother, give shape to her wrath, pain, and sorrow. It is their calloused hands that harvest blood, gore, and skin from the body of the giant, enriched by Avakra’s soul. In such a way, the Dreaming-Warrior never ceases to provide for her followers.

Each Kith has a primary leader for each cast. The leader of the berserkers is the Kor-Takra, while the leader of the shamans is the Ur-Takra. In theory, these two work in tandem to lead the kith, but in practice, one of them rises to prominence, and the other assumes a supporting role.

People and Phenomena

Tarok Beast — Ymiris is the All-Mother, progenitor of all life, and the Echo of her soul is the lifeblood of creation. Tainted by wrath and sorrow, it gives birth to new beings, with whom the Primal Blood are kin. The forests of Paxos abound with all manner of strange beasts.

Paxos Gorehorn — The oerikan believe themselves to be the original children of the world, blessed by the All-Mother with the power to survive where all others would perish. By ritualistically consuming the flesh of their prey, they may gain its traits, adapting to any environment. Some, however, lose themselves to the beast, adding to the menagerie of monsters that hunt in the forests of Paxos.

Sek’Takar — Traditionally, the Primal Blood harvests Avakra’s body of its blood to create the primordial clay, the prima materia for their weaponry and armor. Some parts of the body, although powerful, are deemed too dangerous to be meddled with. Sek’Takar was the first to use Avakra’s highly reactive bile, leading to an explosion that almost cost him half his body. Many saw this as proof of their worries. Sek’Takar knew he had struck gold.

Woe-Caster Shaman — The strong survive, the weak perish. Still, they do not join the All-Mother quietly. By collecting the bodies of their dead brethren, shamans of the Blood Kiths are able to perform the Wailing Ritual, so that their pain may live on, empowering the instruments of their vengeance. The Woe-Caster Shamans are a horrifying presence even amidst the Primal Blood, for they bear with them the voices and burden of a thousand dead souls.

All of Agnar’s magic ultimately hails from Ymiris, for magic is the power of the soul, and all souls were born from her. The All-Mother, however, endowed her creations with free will, and with it they chose to stray from her path. Yet there were those who remained true. The Primal Blood have never turned away from Ymiris and her primordial magic, even when doing so brings them ever closer to madness. After the Great Wounding, Ymiris’ Echo became tainted by pain, sorrow, and wrath, threatening to overcome its wielder’s mind and warp their body. The Primal Blood, however, weaponize this curse, harnessing these powerful emotions, risking their own sanity to channel them into dangerous magic that imbues them with power. The All-Mother’s pain becomes curses; her wrath becomes weapons; her sorrow becomes the anima that drives the shamans’ constructs across the land. Through the Heart of Avakra, the Primal Blood temper this power, allowing them to bear a fraction of the All-Mother’s rage. For they believe in one truth above all else: As the goddess suffers, so shall we all. Ymiris has been bound for millennia, but her rage and pain are born from a deep love of her people. Through the Heart of Avakra, the Primal Blood can taste of this love once more. The shamans of the Kiths harvest the colossal corpse of the ever-healing giant, infused with the soul of Avakra, and from its gore, flesh, bone, and sinew, they can craft everything from blades and armor to battle concoctions. By mixing this soul-infused blood with the earth of Paxos, the shamans create primordial clay, lighter than steel, stronger than stone. This strange material carries fragments of Avakra’s Echo, and, so commingled with the pure earth of Ymiris, allows the Primal Blood to fashion weapons and armor for their warriors, and to impart a semblance of life to powerful golems that the shamans may command in battle. So, too, do the shamans brew concoctions from the giant’s echo-infused blood, mixing it with other enhancements and substances drawn from the beasts or the land. Such brews enhance the prowess of berserkers in battle, or fuel the transformation of oerikan into beastial forms, or else allow the shamans to commune more closely with Avakra. These concoctions are a means to guide and employ the All-Mother’s wrath, giving the Primal Blood incredible dominion over nature and the elements. Although most Primal Blood are aware of the dangers of Ymiris’ magic, few are cognisant of the insidious effects it has on their behavior. The Primal Blood is but a shadow of what it once was, for, over time, Ymiris’ wrath has affected their minds, transforming their once-honored fight into dangerous, disoriented bloodlust.

People and Phenomena

Choice of Brutality — Unlike the revenants of the Order and the Tragedies of the Legion, spirits of the Primal Blood are fleeting creatures. They exist just long enough to make battle one more time. In the aftermath of violent skirmishes, echoes of the felled warrior’s rage linger on in their scattered gore, biding their time to enact vengeance— and then disappear into nothingness.

Trial of Stone — Throughout the many kiths, the Trial of Stone is called whenever a newcomer is required to prove themselves. To establish oneself in the eyes of the kith, one must defeat a foe greater than oneself, be it in strength, size, or wits. Through glorious victory, no room is left for any to question your might or place within the Primal Blood.

Nature’s Wrath — People and nature alike bear the scars of violence. Shamans of the Primal Blood attune to this pain and, through their connection to the All-Mother, open the scars to bleed once more. Wildfires that raged decades ago are invited to scorch the trespassers of today; earthquakes that toppled empires raze the settlements that have dishonored the ground on which they stand.

Endless Rage — Ymiris writhes in agony, bound and tortured by transgressions of ages past. The Primal Blood, those who first abandoned the Everlasting to their greed, maintain a close connection to the All-Mother. Since the Fall, to attune to the All-Mother is to taste her rage and pain, as her grudge for those who wronged her seeps through the body and mind of her children.

Off the eastern shores of Selejia, the Isles of Quinvala are home to the Conclave of the Spheres, a conglomerate of magic schools, each maintaining a monopoly over the study and monetization of a different field of magic. The Conclave was conceived by Molech, the Architect of Secrets and Serpent of Logic, an Everlasting dedicated to the pursuit of magical power. Molech’s foresight extended farther into the future than any of his brethren, and he had set a myriad of plans in motion hundreds of years before they would come to bear fruit. In fact, some claim his first scheme resulted in the Great Wounding.

To further his plans, Molech created the Oracle, an immensely powerful artifact, capable of producing a magical power unlike all others, Liastrum, which would set him free from the Echo of Ymiris—and the monopoly the Triumvirate held over it. To aid in his research, he created the erisyr people, gifted with ingenuity and resistance to Liastrum corruption. The Serpent would fall during the Everlasting War, his body broken and tossed into the Churning Sea. Yet, he had foreseen his own demise and prepared for it. At the moment of his death, his soul became one with the Molech Oracle, his life’s work, making it into an Everlasting Vestige.

Bound to the Oracle, he chose to hide his presence, only influencing the Conclave from the shadows. Without the protection of their Everlasting patron, the Conclave survived the remainder of the war by becoming a neutral party. By selling war constructs and Liastrum-powered weapons, the Conclave became too valuable an asset to be targeted by any Everlasting, as inviting their wrath would mean not the retaliation of an army, but rather, the insidious cutting of invaluable assets. Alongside each apparatus sold, the Conclave made sure to send a master of the craft to operate and maintain it, instead of teaching the ways of their craft, creating a well-calculated monopoly of knowledge. This, however, would also be their downfall.

Far from the Isles of Quinvala, many of the masters sent by the Conclave would meet their doom at the Fall, as most would never return home, either caught by the cataclysm or by the chaos that ensued. In the Fall, the Conclave would lose an insurmountable amount of knowledge, stored in the minds of their masters. Worse still, the Molech Oracle, an unfinished prototype, began to silently falter, disrupted by the massive, chaotic energies liberated by the cataclysm.

Over time, the erisyr felt the stagnation that came from their limited numbers and began to search for apprentices from amongst the other ancestries. Humans, for example, proved to be quick learners, even if impulsive. This influx of new apprentices turned the Conclave into a massively powerful organization, with many adversaries but few enemies. Unlike other factions, the Conclave isn’t concerned with conquering new territory or subjugating through force. They know that true power belongs to those who pull the hidden strings of the universe, manipulating others like puppets, and believe the strongest strings are made of Liastrum.

The Conclave is organized in Spheres, at once colleges, dedicated to the study of magic, and mercantile conglomerates, focused on leveraging their magical knowledge for resources and influence. The masters of the Conclave may seem to be consumed by greed, but profit is merely a means to an end. The mages have come to understand that they don’t need to beat the continent into submission, only to make it dependent upon them and their magic.

All Conclave mages have the capability of learning any of the spells in the Faction’s vast libraries, but different Spheres have a specialty, or even a monopoly over a particular field of study. Sphere Amblis specializes in teleportation and is the only Sphere capable of safely operating Myrkos’ Towers of Transposition, spread around the continent. They charge a hefty price for the use of this service. Sphere Akhenza holds dominion over defensive spells and wards, but is also responsible for inspecting the various laboratories within the Conclave, enforcing the law of the Council. Each of these Spheres is led by a Nexi, but not all Nexi are as powerful as each other, nor are all Spheres equally as influential.

Only the five most prominent Spheres in the Conclave are granted a seat on the Council of Nexi. This Council sits in judgment, resolving disputes and enshrining trade law among the Spheres. In their hands lies the destiny of Quinvala and of the many who depend on their magic. This affords them great influence, but this power is not absolute. Spheres may grow in prominence due to a new discovery, or fade away due to a political or mercantile blunder. The development of a new type of magic, or the unearthing of Relics and Legacies, could elevate a Sphere into the Council, or at least make it very rich.

The mages see opportunity where most would see only madness, and believe their logic can overcome any chaos, even that of the Malediction itself. Nothing is beyond their keen minds and greedy hands. Spheres sponsor expeditions into the Malediction in search of any advantage over their rivals, knowing that their position of power is never secure. As the saying goes: “Profit or perish.”

The Servants of the Spheres

An apprentice of the Conclave may dream of one day being accepted as a Master, but until they are, they must serve. Each mage keeps various pupils they are supposed to be teaching, but who are often used as sacrificial pawns. These aspirants submit themselves to such treatment because only those who have survived the Gaze of Molech, the final step of their training, may draw Liastrum from the Oracle and allocate it to their research or to their own students as they see fit. Without Liastrum, most apprentices would be capable of only paltry magic, and so they acquiesce. Below them are those who have not yet been selected to become apprentices and are eager to prove themselves. These people remain in the coastal city of Gateway, risking life and limb for a taste of Liastrum. Lower still are the constructs, be they of metal and stone or the Spellbound creations of Sphere Chimer. Disturbingly, there are reports of some of these creations beginning to show a degree of autonomy. The Council of Nexi denies such absurdity.

People and Phenomena

Spellbound Bahig’udjin — Spellbounds are an improvement on the concept of constructs, being perfectly obedient servants, but also endlessly mutable and versatile. Their existence, molded by flesh and Liastrum, makes them perfect tools for the Conclave mages. The secrets of their creation are closely guarded by Sphere Chimer.

Gateway Guardian — The Conclave manufactures and sells constructs to all of Selejia, charging handsomely for their continued maintenance. However, the ones truly touched by Liastrum, so advanced as to present signs of sentience, are only found within Quinvala.

Akhenzan Shieldmage — The mages of Sphere Akhenza are experts in defensive magic, such as wards and shields, but also in canceling and reversing magical effects. The other Spheres begrudgingly recognize their power, for they are the ones called to clean the mess when an experiment goes awry.

Conclave Scholar — The first lesson learned by any conclave scholar is the simplest of them all, but one that remains true from the apprentices, all the way to the masters: Liastrum is the most important resource a mage can carry. While far away from Quinvala, some mages have learnt how to expand their Liastrum’s efficiency by mixing it with the essence of living beings. Doing so requires killing the subject, but seldom does a mage care enough to rethink their actions.

Long before the Everlasting War began, Molech was already unsatisfied with the dominion the Triumvirate held over the Thorn of Olem. He wanted his own source of power, one freed from attachments to the other Everlasting. For this purpose, he built the Oracle, a great cosmic orrery, constructed using the same principles as the Thorn. But while the other Everlasting looked to Ymiris for her life’s blood, Molech looked to the skies, transfixed by the mysteries of the cosmos. Molech wanted to go beyond what he had accomplished with his brethren. He questioned where Ymiris herself had originated and what power might be achieved by breaching that realm. Molech turned his Oracle to the skies and pierced the veil between this world and another. The result was Liastrum, an amorphous blue substance, believed to be the blood of the universe itself. Although Molech succeeded in finding his new, independent source of power, not even he uncovered all of the secrets of Liastrum before his demise. The people he created to aid in his research, the erisyr, continued the work of their master to the best of their ability, but many things about Liastrum remain a mystery to this day. Liastrum works as both a source of energy and a magical catalyst. It can empower spells and give the necessary energy for constructs to function, but it also allows even an inexperienced mage to cast more advanced spells. It does this by destabilizing reality itself, priming it to change to the tune of a mage’s will. Once the erisyr of old realized its potential, they created ways to carry this volatile substance with them, for it is consumed with each use and only the Oracle is an endless source of it. Liastrum is stored in vessels, typically spherical, and then manipulated by the use of specially constructed arcane gauntlets. Every apprentice accepted among the Conclave’s ranks is granted a set of these tools, but to become a master, they must build their own. Liastrum magic is the most versatile of all magical traditions used by the great nations, being able to produce nearly any effect. It can even affect the casting and functioning of spells from any other tradition, proving there is a fundamental truth to magic. It is also one of the most dangerous to the user, as Liastrum poisoning may cause irreversible damage to one’s mind and body. The mages have tried to use magic to heal this corruption, but the results were catastrophic, and the test subjects experienced slow agonizing deaths. Those who wish to be recognized as masters must face the Gaze of Molech, standing before the Oracle and controlling a torrent of Liastrum. Those who emerge victorious become full citizens of the Conclave. Those who don’t are consumed by the blue flames, never to be seen again.

People and Phenomena

Rippling Potential — Mages of Sphere Sibyl are masters of foretelling events that are yet to come. For them, any reflective surface, be it a mirror or a pool of still water, is a tool to tap into the realm of possibilities, through which they seek the guidance of their emulated future selves, born from an artificial reality that ceases to be as soon as their gaze is broken.

Runefold Ward — The Conclave is often seen as a group of manipulative mages who aren’t willing to get their hands dirty, letting their spellbound servants do most of the work. There are many among the masters of the Spheres who would prove them wrong and Polinore, for instance, could make anyone who assumes he’s “just an old man” regret having ever thought that.

Amblis Transposition — The Conclave has studied the Towers of Transposition and, with the aid of Liastrum, has been able to replicate their properties. The statistically significant chance of being irreversibly “lost” during transposition is considered an acceptable risk.

Liastrum Discharge — Commercialized as a miraculous power to the other factions, the Conclave knows all too well about the dangers of Liastrum. Constant exposure causes patches of skin to turn blue, giving mages their signature blue lips and eyelids, worn as a signal of status. The real danger, however, lies in the discharges caused by heavy usage of Liastrum, sometimes bursting from within mages in a terrifying explosion of blue flames.

When the Everlasting still walked upon Agnar, mortals had already proved they were capable of wondrous feats of magic. Some believed those feats were only possible due to the benevolence of the Everlasting, who illuminated the minds of mortals with their knowledge and skills. There were those, however, who dared tread where even the so-called gods would not, and who proclaimed themselves to be better, their works more beautiful and mighty than those of the Everlasting. Those who bore witness to the flying city of Abysola may have dared to agree.

During the Age of the Everlasting, the people of Belyos strived to better themselves and their world. Their leader, Ptan-Ravalum, was an Everlasting who renounced both her original name and status as a god to humbly guide her people towards enlightenment, as the maestro of a beautiful orchestra. She even fell in love with a human by the name of Kerak and took him as her consort. Although powerful beyond measure, it was Ravalum’s dedication and pride in her people that made them rise to such lofty heights, with their most beautiful creation being the floating city of Abysola. She and her people wished for a world freed from the Curse of Death, where all could revel in the fruits of their labor. It would be a world based on equality where mortals would be liberated from the capricious whims of false gods. The Triumvirate claimed this path was a dangerous one, that mortals wielding such power, without the restraints imposed by the Everlasting, would destroy all. The Belyosans carried on, their blatant defiance a sign of their intent to shatter the status quo. The Triumvirate chose to make an example out of them, and in a single day, a kingdom was destroyed, and another rose from its corpse.

The Triumvirate struck down the floating city of Abysola, killing all of its inhabitants save for Ptan-Ravalum and her three children. Holding the broken body of Kerak, Ptan-Ravalum cried out in vengeful rage. She made him into a Legacy, so that he may remain by her side. It was then that she first used the Anush-Vah, a powerful, if incomplete, magic, expected to be the means of vanquishing the Curse of Death. With mastery over this eldritch art, she awakened an entire city of corpses, defying the will of her treacherous siblings. Swearing to her people that their sacrifice would never be forgotten, she became the first Queen-Priestess of the Legion of the Fallen.

In the years that followed, Ptan-Ravalum guided her subjects to fight against the Triumvirate, but soon found that her Legion of the Fallen took too great a toll on the Anush-Vah. If her people were to survive the trying times to come, her magic would need more. Sacrificing herself, she created the Amatrix, an artifact empowered by her very soul, and a wellspring of power. Now, Legacy and Vestige, lovers once more reunited, sit in judgment of every would-be monarch, denying all who would rule for themselves before the people.

In the south of the continent, the followers of Ptan-Ravalum have rebuilt on and around the ruins of Abysola. Even though their numbers were severely diminished, death couldn’t stop the Legion. The ways of the Anush-Vah have created a new model of society, where death is far from being the end, and where the Legions of the honorable Fallen serve the living.

During the golden age of Abysola, Ptan-Ravalum and her consort sired three children. After their mother’s sacrifice at the height of the Everlasting War, their dispute for the right to rule sparked a civil war that almost tore the Legion of the Fallen apart, as the Amatrix and the Scepter would have accepted any of the three as bearers. For a hundred years, the Legion was broken by the siblings—a division ensured by their progeny in the decades that followed. The war would end only when a descendant took possession of the Scepter, forfeiting their lineage’s right to rule in favor of a different path. Rather, all three families would be held in equal measure when selecting a monarch, with the final word being held only by the Scepter and the Amatrix.

Each of the siblings’ lineages gave birth to several noble families that rule the Legion of the Fallen today. Now, inheritors of great knowledge of the Anush-Vah and of the will of their forebears, these families form the aristocratic council that guides the Legion and its monarch. From these distinguished ranks, the line of succession is created, and only those who truly understand Ravalum’s vision for the future of its people are given a place in the line. Eventually, the monarch is consumed by the power of the Amatrix, and a new King or Queen must be selected. To be the first in this long line of succession is a dangerous position, as the aristocracy of the Legion isn’t above employing murderous schemes to quicken the ascension of their kin.

The Court divides itself into three major political philosophies, each an offspring of the original siblings’ worldviews. The Oskari are the warmongers and expansionists, commanding the armies that both protect and conquer the land. The Ynnashir are austere followers of Ptan-Ravalum, who focus on developing the necromantic arts, so that the Curse of Death may be overcome. Lastly, the Masarin focus on the virtue of self-fulfillment, furthering art and craft in all their endeavors. Most have strayed from Ptan-Ravalum’s teachings, caring more about their personal goals than the good of the faction. This myopic vision has given rise to a culture of political infighting and intrigue.

The Fallen

Most of the population of Belyos is composed of the risen dead in many shapes and forms. The powerful armies of the Legion are made in large part of the corporeal risen, as is the labor force that works the fields, builds the palaces, and maintains the infrastructure. As long as they are commanded by a living general, their numbers can make them an extremely effective army. However, if the knowledge gathered during their lives is more useful than their physical skills, they are taken to the Epitaph, a library of corpses, where their wisdom may be preserved. The farther one wanders from the capital, the more they see that shades and spirits also populate the cold south. In desolate places such as the Umberlands, these souls wander in a state of unrest, begging for the living to hear their plight, attacking them when they refuse to listen. They gain form regardless of a necromancer’s actions. While spirits can coalesce into existence from the souls of the dead almost anywhere, such as the oathbound Revenants of the Order and the gruesome Tragedies commanded by the Legion, they do so much more frequently within Belyos, where the influence of the Amatrix is strongest.

People and Phenomena

Soulwhisperer — A spirit can’t be simply forced into submission. To understand their wishes and what they are willing to offer, one must delve into the ways of a Soulwhisperer, in which one’s life becomes a bridge between two worlds, each stranger than the other. The Necromancers bargain for the strength of the spirits and the Soulwhisperers are the power brokers.

Sestinar, the Silent — Their tongues removed lest they betray the secrets of their masters, the Silent are the most feared assassins of the continent. They take with them trophies of their kills, like the hands of skilled warriors, or the heads of great mages. Why leave these to rot when they can be put to use by the Necromancers of the Legion?

Tragedy of the Wronged — Trauma and horror unite souls who were lost to the same awful fate. The spirits, in an attempt to make sense of their death, are engulfed by each other, becoming something more, something unique. These newborn Tragedies seek to re-enact their end, to the culpable and innocent alike, and the necromancers know how to exploit this urge.

Barrow Defiler — Not all abominations of Selejia have been created by mortal hands. Some have their origins shrouded in mystery, dating back to the Age of Strife that ensued after the Fall. These Defilers were named after their strange behavior, as their necrophagy demands that they spend much of their time digging graves in search of food. Despite its consumption of dead flesh putting it at odds with the Legion, the necromancers found its quick exhumation of cadavers to be too useful to ignore, opting to employ the creatures in exchange for a snack every now and then.

The Anush-Vah is the magic tradition created by Ptan-Ravalum, intended to end the Curse of Death by manipulating a powerful part of every living being: the Soulbreath, the force that animates the body and leaves us when we draw our last breath. Death corrupts this force, and it quickly decays until there’s nothing left. Its manipulation, first achieved by Ptan-Ravalum to raise an army from the ruins of Abysola, is the way the necromancers of Belyos manage to reanimate any dead carcass. Some creatures can be reanimated more easily than others. The longer one has been dead for, the harder it is for the necromancer to raise them again, and the process is never perfect. The necromancers channel the Soulbreath from the environment and use it to reanimate corpses, but the process is akin to trying to unspill a bottle of wine. Each noble family holds expertise in specific variations of the necromantic arts, passed from generation to generation as deeply guarded secrets. This secret knowledge is what gives them power, both political and practical. There are those who bargain with spirits, who can understand their maddened wails and bind them to service. Others serve as generals, leading great numbers of the mindless Fallen, and others who can demand the dead to tell their tales, recovering secrets long buried in rotten flesh. To manipulate the Anush-Vah is to deal in entropy. Just as a necromancer can slow it down to preserve a Fallen, so can they hasten it to bring harm and decay. By forcing Soulbreath foreign to the vital energy of an enemy into their body, the hexing process begins. In living organisms, a hex erodes the life force, causing the flesh to burn cold as it sloughs off the bone. Not even stone, metal, or dead flesh are immune to the forces of entropy and can be forced to decay to dust. In small doses, these hexes can be used to torture, rather than kill, a common practice in Belyosan prisons. The Soulbreath can also be manipulated for more subtle effects. Some necromancers can use this energy to contaminate the minds of their enemies, causing them to run or freeze in fear. The more skilled Cursemasters can even control their victims as they would a Fallen. The closer a necromancer is to the capital city of Abysola, the easier it is to manipulate the Anush-Vah. Powerful Seekers and necromancers can bend the Soulbreath to their will in any place of Selejia. However, the aura that emanates from the Amatrix makes the Soulbreath more malleable than usual and prevents its decay. The reach of the Legion of the Fallen is therefore limited by the Amatrix’s range of influence, a deficiency the necromancers seek to overcome by enhancing the inheritance of Ptan-Ravalum with the power of Relics. One day, the Legion will reach out to the rest of Selejia, offering to free them from the Curse of Death.

People and Phenomena

Spell Plunder — The Epitaph is one of the greatest wonders the Legion of the Fallen has ever produced. A huge library of corpses, keeping the knowledge of generations safe from destruction. In the labyrinthine halls of bone, not even the acolytes can track all the secrets hidden within.

Entrap the Mind — The Echo of the Fallen souls carries the memories of the departed. A powerful necromancer can manipulate this energy, forcing it to enter and corrupt the soul of an enemy. By doing this, they can curse, hex, and even entrap the minds of their targets, controlling their bodies as if they were Fallen themselves.

Drown in Oblivion — Flowing through Epitaph and into the Bay of Tears, The Oblivion is a source of legend well beyond the Legion’s territory. Those who are soaked in its waters return changed, as if the currents washed them of memory.

Gift of Flesh — Following the teachings of Ptan-Ravalum, when a citizen of Belyos passes, their body becomes an asset of the state, so that they may be of use to their nation and further the cause of the living. However, not all those who die are destined for the corpse-vaults of the necropolis or the archives at Epitaph. Many, in fact, find their final rest as spare parts.

Chief amongst those who delve into the inhospitable depths of the Malediction are the Seekers—those brave or foolish souls who seek out the lost treasures of past ages.

These Seekers bear the weight of Legacies, artifacts created by the Everlasting to empower their followers during the Everlasting War, and imbued with the souls of their most zealous agents. These Legacies grant the Seekers a keen resilience against the corrupting influence of the Malediction, enabling them to lead others into the increasingly dangerous environs within the Wall of Galdrun.

A Seeker is chosen by a Legacy to become its wielder. While the criteria for such choices are as individual as the Legacies themselves, one commonality exists amongst them: that the Seeker must already display the right qualities and fortitude to be able to withstand the sheer power contained in the Legacy. Many try, but most fail.

So it is that the nations of Selejia require the Seekers to be able to mount expeditions of their own, but also fear them, for their fierce individuality and the power of the Legacies they wield. Difficult to control, the Seekers are a law unto themselves, but nevertheless, the most essential of Selejia’s figures in the exploration of the Malediction, as the only ones capable of surviving in the dread realm for any extended period of time.

Divided Loyalties

Amongst the Seekers are those few who choose not to subscribe to the philosophies of a particular nation or faction, instead pursuing agendas all their own. Occasionally, these agendas will align with those of another group or government, but these free agents are seen as a dangerous necessity amongst the major factions. From time to time, factions may pay to hire the services of these Seekers, but they always maintain a wary distance.

Character Story

Auric was once destined to be a trader, like his father, Ulfrith, and his grandfather before him, not a fighter. He saw this fate shattered when his family’s caravan was attacked by the Primal Blood. Auric’s father surprised all, for the humble merchant came to the defense of his family, wielding the Will of the Forge, a Legacy of the vulkir people, thought lost to the ages. Ulfrith fought that day with a ferocity worthy of the old legends, and though he perished, his sacrifice bought enough time for a contingent from New Osterath to arrive and drive back the raiders.

Embittered by loss, Auric became obsessed with vengeance; the perfect tool for the Order. One of the few survivors of the attack, the young man found himself a ward of New Osterath, a territory of the Order, where the vulkir were scarce, and the humans viewed them with suspicion. There, he grew older and stronger, his body and mind forged into a bulwark of the Order. During this time, he learned the secret history of his family and the fall of the kingdom of Midrasil. He learned, too, of the heir to the throne escaping with a Legacy that could only be wielded by those of royal blood, the Will of the Forge. The weapon his father had borne was Auric’s birthright. His Legacy. And it was incomplete. In the ancient homeland of his people, the key to unlocking the true power of the Legacy was yet to be recovered, and claiming it would entail a great cost.

Auric journeyed to Midrasil and took the Caldera’s Fist, the right arm of its last king, leaving his own flesh as payment. Hammer in metal hand, he carved a bloody path through the warlords of Paxos, working to tame the region and bring it under the Order’s dominion. Many were brought to heel and even converted, for the Valcarist Church mandates that all who bend the knee must be spared and welcomed into the fold. If it were up to Auric, he would put all of them to the sword, for his hatred towards the Primal Blood still runs deep. Instead, Auric works with the converts, making sure they are always on the front lines of any conflict. Auric is a violent, but pragmatic man.

The Valcarist Church has come to see the value in Auric’s cold brutality and has offered him a title and lands in exchange for his service, retrieving Relics from the Malediction. The aged vulkir has accepted the offer, for he believes the future of his people is with the Order and that he must be the one to usher it in.

Legacy — Will of the Forge, Legacy of a People

In the Age of the Everlasting, the most prodigious artisan in the land was a vulkir by the name of Aurus, whose legend is still sung today. So exquisite were the items he created in his forge that Galdrun, Shaper of Mountains, treated him like a son. Even other Everlasting commissioned works from him that endure to this day, some having become Legacies. Being as skilled in statecraft as he was in smithing, Aurus became the first king of the vulkir, and when death came for him, Galdrun offered another path. His soul was bound into the tools of his trade, so that the future leaders of the vulkir could benefit from his counsel and continue to create in the name of the Everlasting.

The Will of the Forge is a Legacy in two halves. The first is the eponymous hammer, which has the power to shatter nearly any magical artifact and extract from it the power hidden inside. The hammer doesn’t bond with the wielder as other Legacies do, and in the past, some have been able to access its destructive power without being true bearers. The true capabilities of the Legacy, however, can only be realized by one who fuses with the Caldera’s Fist. One who sacrifices their own flesh in favor of the metal arm can use the power of the hammer in full, not only to destroy, but also to create, redirecting the energies the hammer liberates into new works.

The Will of the Forge was primarily intended to be a tool of creation, not of destruction. However, it aligns itself with those who have the best interests of the vulkir people at heart, whatever their preferred means of advancing those interests.

Seeker's Purpose

Auric sees himself as the rightful heir to a fallen kingdom, one whose founder was Galdrun, an ally of the Triumvirate. He believes the values and goals of the vulkir are aligned with the Order of the Shattered Throne. His people, scattered throughout the world as they are, must be brought together under his rule, so that their culture may flourish again. To his allies Auric is a severe leader, but also a just and efficient one, with the skill to keep them alive. To his enemies he is simply a violent man, with a taste for cruelty, who has lived beyond his years. When the goals of the Order and the fate of his people come into conflict, the line between enemies and allies begins to blur.

Character Story

With little affinity for the necromantic arts and too strong-willed to be of use for an arranged marriage, Morrida was seen as a burden by her family. To free themselves of any of their responsibilities towards her, they sent Morrida to the Epitaph to study amidst the honored dead. Within a library of corpses, where the secrets of the ancient dead are pried from them by necromancers, Morrida slowly came to grips with her fate, her heart hardened by her family’s betrayal. Eventually, a sweet-worded Lord by the name of Vorendal wore down her stubborn facade, winning her heart and encouraging her to explore different magical traditions with one of the awakened dead: Akriphista.

Tutored by the Fallen erisyr woman, Morrida discovered her true magical potential. Anush-Vah, the breath of life that allows the Legion to reanimate the dead, was not a power set in stone, but rather a beautiful tapestry of strings that could blend with many other traditions. Her magical growth had been stunted all along by dull, orthodox thinking.

When she told Akriphista of her wish to share this newfound power with Vorendal, her tutor’s face turned to a hateful scowl. Vorendal, an ancient, Fallen being of his own, had used Akriphista to gain forbidden knowledge, and discarded her as soon as she was no longer useful. When Morrida confronted Vorendal about these revelations, he showed his true colors, scarring her face in a fit of rage. Once more, Morrida had been betrayed, but she would not bow to a destiny imposed.

Feigning her own death to escape Vorendal, Morrida journeyed to Quinvala, where the Conclave measures one’s value by their deeds, not their lineage. There she mastered Liastrum magic and a Legacy once thought useless: the Soul-Stitcher. This Legacy was much like her: misunderstood, complex, and unfathomably powerful. In her hands, the Soul-Stitcher weaved Liastrum and the Anush-Vah together in a new technique, binding long-dead spirits into empty corpses. She returned to her homeland with this newfound power and was acknowledged by the leader of Belyos, the Queen of the Dead. Considered to be a great candidate to take on the role of Queen once the Amatrix has consumed its current host, Morrida was offered a place on the line of succession. It should have been the greatest of honors for a member of the Legion, but Morrida refused it, surprising all.

She knows that even the monarch of the Legion must answer to the court and is bound to the will of PtanRavalum. Morrida will never again be bound to someone else’s desires. Instead, she wished to be granted the spiritridden Umberlands, where she would be left alone and largely free from the machinations of her enemies.

Now, she keeps by her side only her beloved stitched creations and the few necromancers who wish to follow in her footsteps and abandon the rigid traditions of the Legion. Morrida ventures into the Malediction under the guise of serving the Legion’s best interests, but in reality, she searches for other sources of power that her Soul-Stitcher may be able to use. Freedom can only be guaranteed by power, and Morrida will have it all.

Legacy — The Soul-Stitcher

Among the many laboratories of the Conclave of the Spheres, some ancient treasures are left to gather dust, silently waiting for their true nature to be uncovered. Many secrets remain lost, hidden by the shadow of the Fall. Some of these treasures are Legacies or, at least, powerful and volatile magical artifacts that cause grievous injury to those who try to uncover their mysteries. The Soul-Stitcher was one such item, turning away burning Liastrum and sucking Soulbreath away from those who weren’t deemed worthy of its power. The touch of Morrida’s hands awakened its potential, unraveling the web of arcane possibilities within.

The Soul-Stitcher has accepted very few wielders throughout the centuries. Even before the Fall, it is said that Ptan-Ravalum sent out some of her followers into the world beyond Belyos, so they could study other magical traditions and find the missing piece that would make the Anush-Vah perfect. When those who returned began to perish under the Curse of Death, she fashioned them into Legacies so their expertise would not be lost. The Soul-Stitcher was created as one such experiment, to use Liastrum, and perhaps even other sources of power, to bind a soul to a body. The bearer of the Soul-Stitcher will bring into existence new beings, defying the Curse of Death through the power of new creation.

Seeker's Purpose

Morrida will never again trust another living soul, for they will always be capable of betraying her. She keeps only the council of spirits, bound by the deals the Soul-Stitcher enforces, and of her stitched creations, bound to her own will. Morrida despises silly games of political intrigue. She prefers exploring the Malediction, where the mysteries of magic await to be uncovered. She understands that true power lies in this ancient knowledge, the one she will need to defend her freedom and take revenge on those who wronged her.

Character Story

Many speak on the mysteries of life and death. Some with the certainty granted by faith, others with the overconfidence of a life of study. However, when facing Griza, all such convictions fail. The spirit that stalks the battlefields of the Malediction is an unliving contradiction, and the terror they strike in those they meet in battle is mirrored in the hearts of those who follow them, uncertain, into the fray.

In the shadows of Belyos, homeland of the Legion of the Fallen, the spirits of the dead, wronged by the same cruel fate, may coalesce and rise as a single being, known as a Tragedy. Griza is such a creature, born from the souls of soldiers captured, tortured, and experimented on by necromancers who wished to unlock the power of Ihreniv, a Legacy of legend. Their wishes would be answered when a devout knight of the Order of the Shattered Throne, maddened by pain, was killed while wearing the artifact.

That knight would rise as a Revenant, becoming the core of a Tragedy, bound to the Legacy, hungry for vengeance and driven by the relentless need to fulfill in death the oaths it was bound to in life. With their power to command other spirits, Griza slew the necromancers and brought down their palace of anguish. Only one grim reminder is left of that place, one Lingering Wound that refuses to heal.

There are those within the Order who see Griza as a divine herald of the Everlasting, while in the Legion, necromancers eagerly bargain for the services of the Seeker. Griza accepts devotion and indulgence alike, all the while knowing many would prefer its existence to end, for they embody the magics of both the Order and the Legion—therefore contradicting each faction’s deepest beliefs.

They are many in one, and yet, they are of one mind. A mission remains, an oath to be upheld, and Griza will scour the Malediction to see this task complete. In the bowels of chaos, a Vestige awaits, one that could awaken an Everlasting, forever changing the fate of the world

Legacy — Ihreniv, The Helm of Oaths

Today, most of those who know the name Ihneriv recognize it as the Legacy which Griza proudly bears: the helm which grants the Seeker unnatural control over other spirits. However, what few people know is that, in ancient scrolls hidden deep within the vaults of the Order, the name Ihreniv can also be found, revealing secrets many would rather keep in darkness. These inscriptions speak not of a Legacy, but of a once mortal man. Ihneriv, of the Golden Visage, was known for his unshakable faith in the TriumvirateEverlasting, whom he served with no hint of hesitation, no matter their orders. His devotion was so pure, that he was blessed with the power of a Relic, his golden helm. It blinded him to the world, so that his blade may be guided by faith alone. His blind devotion was the quality for which the Triumvirate held him as their perfect servant, but, mighty as he was, Ihreniv was still a mortal, flawed as all mortalkind.

Love can bring even the holiest of men to his knees, and the pain of love lost can make him break any oath. When Ihreniv’s lover passed, the knight pleaded with the Triumvirate to return her to him. They declared that her path was set and that death could not be undone. Ihreniv then sought far and wide. Refusing to let death drag his lover away from him, he found the answers he needed in the south of Selejia, a land where Ptan-Ravalum denied the word of the Everlasting.

Through a ritual his old masters would have considered blasphemous, the soul of Ihreniv’s beloved was returned, bound once again to her flesh. The price was his service to the Queen-Priestess, which Ihreniv gladly paid. However, his beloved could never again leave Belyos, for only Ravalum’s magic could sustain her.

The rumours about the rogue general and his fallen lover reached the ears of the Triumvirate. They couldn’t allow such treachery, blasphemy, and defiance of their power to go unpunished. The Varangast, personal guard of the Triumvirate, were sent after the traitor, capturing him and slaying his Fallen lover once again. Ihreniv’s broken body was taken back to face judgment before the Triumvirate, alongside the helm that was once the general’s source of pride. His punishment was merciless.

The Triumvirate broke him down, stripping his soul of anything but his once fervent loyalty, trapping it inside the helm so it would forevermore enforce their will. This served as a warning to all who would dare follow in his footsteps.

Seeker's Purpose

They are an amalgam of what many people once were, joined by pain and the driving impetus of revenge and oath. Unlike many Seekers, Griza can’t be deceived or manipulated by promises of power. They know they already have it. Griza isn’t driven by mundane desire, but by an instinctual need to accomplish their goal. Griza is unburdened by any morals, or obeyance to worldly laws, for these are but shackles of mortal life and death has unbound them. The only certainty left is that, somewhere within the Malediction, the Vestige of an Everlasting waits to be recovered, and Griza cannot know rest or peace, until this oath is fulfilled.

Character Story

The In’Grok dynasty was once the foremost amongst all kiths of the Primal Blood. Since the departure of Octna, the In’Grok had ruled in his place, but their fall from grace proved as swift and brutal as the one who begot it: Thundersteps. When the titan emerged from the Malediction, the dynasty was shattered, like all those who opposed him.

Raised as the blood heir to this broken dynasty, In’Gor was expected to become a mighty warrior, inherit his father’s Legacy, and topple Thundersteps, reuniting the Primal Blood under his rule. The oerikan, however, was an oddity in his lineage, born frail and with little brawn to achieve those lofty goals. In a kith and culture centered around physical might, In’Gor was worthy of pity at best, and despise at worst. His father opted for the latter.

There were, however, those who saw in him the potential for greatness. Being invited into a shamanic circle, In’Gor would awaken his true, unseen potential, mastering magic drawn from the wrath of Ymiris and rising to become a power to be reckoned with. Still, it was not enough. Never enough. To defeat Thundersteps, he would need more. Stealing his father’s Legacy, In’Gor would perform an ancient, forbidden ritual, one that would go beyond pure Primal Blood magic and tap into the very power of death.

Journeying to the Malediction, the shaman performed the ritual at the site of a grim massacre, where the scorched, maimed corpses of Legion members stood frozen in time. Raising the Chaos Effigy, he opened his soul and beckoned the spirits of the dead to enter, consuming them in his relentless hunger for power. The ritual was a success—but not even once did In’Gor question the price he would come to pay.

Challenging Thundersteps, openly, with the gaze of many a kith upon him, In’Gor was sure he would carve his name in history. The oerikan and the cyclops fought for hours, and when In’Gor thought he had gained the upper hand, it all came crashing down. He tapped too greedily into his newfound powers, losing control of his magic and almost losing his life to Thundersteps.

Defeated and forced to escape into the Malediction, he discovered the cost of his hubris: he had been possessed by ancient, powerful spirits of the Legion, who hoped to use his flesh as their own. With the spirits twisting his body and threatening to take over his mind, In’Gor defied the odds and left the Malediction alive.

Now, beyond the grasp of death through his ever-healing body, the shaman keeps the spirits at bay, all the while resisting their torturous whispers and searching for a way to bring them to heel. Despite his gruesome state, he knows he’s never been so powerful. Once he conquers his possessors, his vengeance will be at hand. He still has his archenemy to defeat and the kiths to unite.

Legacy — Effigy of Chaos

Once known as Chaos’s Fist, the Legacy has taken many forms throughout the centuries. Ancient stories of the Primal Blood speak of Octna, the Warrior-Prophet, the great liberator. Although accounts differ greatly, some of them refer to the strange weapon wielded by Octna, one that was used to perform feats worthy of legend. Some proclaim that it originally was a hammer, while others say that it was a staff of elemental power, but in the end, it found its way to the hands of the In’Grok dynasty. In’Gor, empowered by the teachings of the Takra of Spirit, the shamanic circle, swore to foster a new age for the Primal Blood, and in his hands, the Legacy became the Effigy of Chaos, a symbol of spiritual might. In reality, the Legacy is but a hunk of metal, simple enough to offer its wielder the greatest gift: possibility. The possibility of changing one’s body and soul.

Since Thundersteps’ arrival, prompting the schism of the shamans and berserkers, the Primal Blood was left blind to the Effigy of Chaos’s true power. Unlike other Legacies, it does not enforce its will upon its user, but rather it catalyzes its wielder’s own power, attuning to either their spiritual or physical might, symbolizing the core principles of the Twin Takras taught by Octna. Yet, there is a hidden potential held within the Legacy. Should In’Gor rise above his frailness, learning to tap into the power taught by the Takra of Stone and becoming a Warrior-Prophet, the Effigy of Chaos will reveal its true power.

Seeker's Purpose

Life is a melody of chaos, one that gives as easily as it takes, and In’Gor knows how to dance to its tune. The shaman sees his subjects as mere tools that will guide him to reunite the Primal Blood, and if they must die, they’ll do so with a bang, dragging In’Gor’s enemies down with them. Possessed by ancient spirits of the Legion, he can tap into but a fraction of their power, for they resist the shaman, threatening to take over his mind at any point. In’Gor will not heed, for he knows that in the Malediction lies the power to conquer his tormentor.

Character Story

Liena never harbored illusions about the Conclave or her role in it. Since becoming an apprentice, she cast away emotionality in favor of ruthless, cold logic, for she had seen the fate of those who expected the masters to share their knowledge or show any compassion. They were but lambs, blindly being led to slaughter upon the altar of their masters’ fight for dominance. To avoid such a fate, Liena would have to secure the greatest of all Conclave currencies: power. However, it was not enough to become a master, still beholden to one of the Spheres. Liena wished to become a Nexi, a mage of singular, uncontestable power. Slowly, she gained enough trust to be allowed to perform research within the Molech Oracle’s inner chambers. It was there that she found the means to her ascension: a hidden vault, concealing a number of Legacies from the eyes of both masters and apprentices—and a warning to leave them be.

Not one to listen to the wisdom of dead mages, Liena delved deeper, learning that one of those Legacies could produce its own Liastrum, a small but endless source of power. This was the breakthrough that would set her apart, but it could also be easily taken away. To secure her place as Nexi, this power would have to be hers, and hers alone. Liena implanted the Legacy within her flesh, becoming both its master and its host. Liena was now a living Legacy.

No longer would she have to beg the council for access to more Liastrum: she had all she would ever want in her very body, flowing through her veins. As her power grew, her control over it became more unstable. She had underestimated the corrupting influence of Liastrum and, by her own design, the Legacy could not be removed from her flesh. Liena despaired in the realization that a fate worse than death awaited her.

When she had exhausted all research available within the Conclave, Liena turned to unfamiliar, ill-understood traditions. She had heard the tales of how Primal Blood magic could cleanse their wounds of Liastrum’s influence, and of how the souls of their warriors lived on within constructs of clay and flesh. She made a deal with a shaman, and by joining the knowledge of the Conclave and the strange magic of the Primal Blood, Liena entered a deep slumber within the primordial clay.

The thing that arose was Kar-Mamok, Liena’s prison of flesh, but one under her control. The corruption of the Liastrum in her veins has not been reversed, only stalled. Still, the mage now dreams of the day she will be free of this prison, and guides this new form to search the Malediction for the key to her salvation.

Legacy — Kar-Mamok

Selejia is home to a number of magical traditions, each with its own rituals and powers. Still, it is the Primal Blood, the children of Ymiris, who wield the raw primordial magic of the All-Mother, the very essence of the world. Through this power, they are able to breathe new life into their mortally wounded brethren. By sculpting monstrous golems from primordial clay and the flesh of their brothers and sisters, shamans may preserve the souls of the people within, so that their might may live on. These constructs become mindless servants that obey the will of their shamanic master. These golems, however, are born from the near demise of a life, when the mind is already grasped by the tendrils of death. What if there were a way to preserve one’s mind and will?

When the shaman struck the pact with Liena, he expected her body to be absorbed by the primordial clay, where she would become one with the golem: a mindless puppet like so many others—one that would grant him unlimited access to Liastrum. To his surprise, the Liastrum that seeped from her body arrested the transformation, instead creating a casing that kept the mage from being absorbed by the bloodcrafted clay. Liena’s body and sense of self were preserved, and lying within Kar-Mamok, she entered a comatose state.

As she lies sleeping, Liena’s mind is torn between the reality lived by her prison of flesh and the realm of her own dreams. In her waking life, she has full control over Kar-Mamok, but as she falls into slumber, the golem has begun to display an identity of its own, rebelling against her whims in minor ways. This is unheard of even amongst the Primal Blood, for Kar-Mamok should be nothing but a shell. Still, Liastrum seeps from Liena, attracting many a mage who wish to journey alongside her. They may freely empower themselves through her Liastrum—so long as they bring her closer to her goal.

Seeker's Purpose

From the meekest farmer to the greatest Nexi, adversity pays a visit to all, but only real masters are able to transform their suffering into the means of their victory. Trapped within a bloodcrafted golem known as Kar-Mamok, with a mysterious Legacy poisoning her mind and body, Liena’s resolve will be tested while she scours the Malediction in search of the means to her release. With the help of the golem’s sturdy protection and her own potent Liastrum, she will do anything to regain control over her own fate.

Character Story

Screams, panic, a rumble loud enough to crack the world asunder, and then… silence. Whether it was trauma or tender age, Londriel recalls very little of the Fall, but one thing is certain: her Legacy, the Ark of Lamentation, granted her a mercy that befell no other. Kept in magical stasis for millennia and awakened deep in the Order’s territory, the girl born before the Fall was hailed as a living saint, but not by all. Her nature as an erisyr, and her Legacy’s power over heretical Liastrum magic, put her at the center of a religious struggle.

Still, Londriel grew to embody the Order’s dedication to a higher purpose. She came to believe that the Fall was caused by the reckless use of magic, both by the Everlasting and by their servants. To prevent such a cataclysm from ever happening again, the world would need a warden, someone with both power and judiciousness. When her erisyr heritage could no longer be ignored—considering her people’s ties to the Conclave—she was sent to Quinvala, homeland of her people. The mages of the Conclave welcomed Londriel with open arms, eager to gain an influential, if controversial pawn.

Under the tutelage of Polinore, Londriel would become a master of Liastrum magic, but her self-righteousness and wilfulness would be her and her master’s downfall. Always inquisitive, Londriel learned unsettling secrets about the Conclave, that infuriated her to the breaking point. Liastrum, lauded as an endless, safe magical resource, was far from what the Nexi made it out to be. It poisoned the body and mind of its wielders, and, even more concerningly, could cause permanent damage to the fabric of reality wherever it was used. Openly denouncing the Conclave’s negligence, Londriel sparked a trial against her and her master, resulting in both being ostracized. Worse still, her master stood silent as both were accused and sentenced.

Londriel, however, sees in her punishment, enacted by a corrupt court, merely the righteousness of her actions. Now, she silently strides toward the Malediction, searching for knowledge of the Fall and her own past, so that she may safeguard Selejia from its abusers, with force if necessary. She must be the one to do so, of course, for she has seen the end, it resonates within her very soul— and she won’t allow it to happen again.

Legacy — Ark of Lamentation

This Legacy is a jewel of blue amber, shaped like a simple star, but its power is undeniable, for it protected Londriel from the Fall, from hundreds of years inside the Malediction, and even from the passage of time itself. Nearly eight hundred years ago, one of the first expeditions of the Order into the Malediction returned carrying what they thought to be a sign of the Everlasting, a child, encased in a coffin of blue amber, the Ark of Lamentation. The child seemed to be sleeping peacefully, unaware of her surroundings or the chaos that followed the Fall. She was taken to Tempras, the holy city, and enshrined as the “Saint in Amber”. There, Londriel stayed for over seven centuries, until a mage of the Conclave chanced a visit and realized that the Ark was actually crystallized Liastrum.

Although no weapon or power had so far been able to harm the Ark, when the Conclave mage, eager to profit from the discovery, attempted to steal it through the use of a transposition spell, the touch of raw liastrum magic caused the crystal to shatter in a violent blast of power. The explosion left only the crystalline core and the erisyr child behind. Since that day and, perhaps, since before the Fall, the Ark has been bonded with Londriel, and any attempts to separate her from the Legacy have had disastrous consequences for those involved. It seems to want to protect her, and has a strange effect on all magic around it. While regular Liastrum works as a catalyst for magic by destabilizing the fabric of reality, the Ark has the opposite effect, siphoning the power of magic to bring order to the world. Whatever soul was sacrificed to empower this Legacy, it seemed to have at heart the preservation of the world in the face of chaotic magic. There is no better bearer for such a Legacy than Londriel.

Seeker's Purpose

Despite her connection to the Order and the Conclave, Londriel finds fault with both factions. The Order is too fanatical in their zeal and devotion, foregoing logic for faith, while the Conclave’s greed and hubris causes them to push magic to the breaking point. Such was the behaviour that led to the war of the Everlasting and the loss of the golden world she once knew. Londriel fears nothing more than a second Fall, one where the Malediction will swallow the world whole. She sees herself as the righteous guardian of a world filled with reckless fools that do not understand the danger of their actions, for she still remembers enough of the world before the Fall to understand what was lost.

Character Story

A man blessed with charm and intelligence in equal measure, Polinore was once the most promising—albeit unruly—apprentice the Conclave had ever known. Due to his prodigious magical skills, he was soon allowed to face the Gaze of Molech, the last test to confirm him as a Master of the Conclave. To stand before the Molech Oracle, source of all Liastrum, to draw from and control it, was a test many did not survive. Polinore would return, alive but forever changed. Gone was his once joyful demeanor, replaced by a stark and haunted facade. Whatever terrible thing he had witnessed, he would not speak of it.

All thought him mad when he decided to journey into the Malediction himself, instead of waiting for the time when his influence would be great enough to send agents in his stead. Polinore, however, returned, bearing a Legacy of great power, the Runefold Gauntlet. In the years that followed, every risk he took paid off, and his quick ascension made him the obvious successor to the role of Keeper of the Molech Oracle. This came at a cost: power-hungry eyes peered at him from all directions, biding their time to strike. When his apprentice, Londriel, stepped forth to denounce the corruption of the Conclave, those eyes found their opportunity. Both master and pupil were charged with manufactured accusations, leading to Polinore’s downfall and Londriel’s exile.

As punishment, the Council of the Nexi stripped Polinore of his role as Keeper and demoted him to a bureaucratic position of little political power. He would become the Prime Archivist, overseeing the return of expeditions from the Malediction and logging their discoveries. Polinore, however, had cleverly maneuvered himself to be closer to the Relics, using his privileged access to control the flow of information about them, and through this, the flow of power to Quinvala. His peers now fear that Polinore could break the Balance of the Spheres, but greed has seldom clouded Polinore’s mind.

Through all his machinations, Polinore kept many a secret, but none so terrible as his failing at the Gaze of Molech, having been saved only by the intervention of the Vestige itself, which revealed to him a grim truth: the Oracle is not only incomplete, but on the verge of collapse.

Now, Polinore is the Vestige’s chosen, its sole protector, imbued with the mission to complete the work Molech left unfinished, albeit ignorant of what will come to pass once this mission is achieved.

Legacy — Runefold Gauntlet

Only a fool would try to brave the Malediction when so many more experienced mages had failed. Why risk one’s own life when apprentices and mercenaries can perform the same work at no great expense, but the lives of paltry pawns? Polinore might have been a prodigy as a student, but he had only recently been recognized as a master, and this was too much, even for him. Many rejoiced at the possibility of seeing a young and smug Polinore fail. However, to their consternation, Polinore returned with no shadow at his side but his own, wielding a new gauntlet of ancient construction and of unmistakable power, marking his victory. This feat allowed him to quickly ascend the ranks of the Conclave and become the Nexi of his own Sphere.

The Runefold Gauntlet allows Polinore to manipulate Liastrum with such potency and refinement that the taint of Liastrum stopped spreading through Polinore’s skin, the corruption held at bay by the Legacy. Its ancient patterns indicate this tool was one of the first prototypes of these items, now so vital for any Conclave Mage. There are few mentions of this Legacy in the archives, but the ones that exist reveal that it was crafted by Molech, the Serpent of Logic himself, using the soul of an extremely skilled erisyr, who was his most prodigious apprentice. At the death of such a potential apprentice, one who promised to one day prove his equal, Molech wept. The Serpent of Logic shedding a tear at all makes the story at once awe-inspiring and doubtful to have ever happened.

Some have witnessed the Legacy shimmer, as it evokes the power of magic it has witnessed. Beyond that, the gauntlet seems to record information through some unknown method, sharing it with its bearer alone. Polinore took years to truly master the Runefold Gauntlet, discovering that, through its connection to the Molech Oracle, the Legacy can offer him glimpses of the near future. Just enough to allow him to pick the best approach to a situation, a tactical advantage that has saved his life many times in battle.

Seeker's Purpose

As much as Polinore came to despise the political machinations within Quinvala, the truth is that nobody embodies the Conclave’s ways better than the Archivist. His hunger for power and for knowledge is unmatched, and he is cold, calculating, and effective in his methods. Polinore understands that people care about any given thing just as much as it benefits them and no more. He knows this game, and through meticulous planning and inscrutable schemes he can make people move like the pawns that they are. The unfinished nature of the Molech Oracle is seen by Polinore as an obstacle only he can overcome. He will never abandon this goal, for this would be an admittance that all he has sacrificed for power was in vain.

Character Story

From a tender age, Sigrith heard a mysterious voice, beckoning to her in the darkness. It demanded of her great deeds, guiding her rise from a lowborn faithful to a formidable Knight of the Order of the Shattered Throne. When a rebellion erupted in the northern lands, the voice beckoned Sigrith to join the fray, and she rushed forth, outnumbered, but with fire in her eyes. In the aftermath of the battle, she would be found alone amidst a hundred corpses, protected by the holy shield Andravon—the origin of the voice. Sigrith and this Legacy had found their way to each other, guided by faith and fate.

Under the scrutiny of the great powers of the Valcarist Church, she was confirmed as the rightful bearer of the Legacy, a chosen of the Everlasting. That day, the voice of the Andravon flowed from her, and those present heard a grim prophecy: a great upheaval in the Malediction was about to begin, and it would open the way for salvation— or eternal damnation. Sigrith called on those who were righteous of soul to pledge their lives to her cause. None who bore witness could have denied the truth in her words, and so, many became her followers.

Amidst her soldiers, whispers abound of Sigrith’s grim determination in deciding who shall be saved and who shall be left for dead. Her closest companions attest that, even when ordering soldiers to their deaths, her eyes gleam with unyielding certainty; she makes no decisions herself, but rather carries out the will of the Everlasting, as dictated by the Andravon.

The Valcarist Church parades her as a “Blessed Chosen”, taking advantage of her unquestionable faith to forward their goals. The Order has decreed that the time is right for the Great Reclamation to begin, calling forth its armies to retake Selejia from the faithless. Sigrith, however, marches under orders of a higher power. The Andravon has revealed that in the ancient city of Osterath, at the center of the Malediction, the power to “set the world right” waits to be reclaimed. In the name of the Everlasting, she will take that power, no matter the cost.

Legacy — Andravon, Shield of the Everlasting

When war raged between the Everlasting, mortals came to learn that even the gods could be felled. For the people of Olem, their gods, the righteous Everlasting of the Triumvirate, could not be allowed to perish. And so it was that the Varangast were created, warriors of unquestionable loyalty and fierce strength, selected to be the personal guard of the Triumvirate. Granted power by the Everlasting, they were feared for their combat prowess and for their bloodthirsty zealotry. Alas, the Triumvirate was assailed on all sides, and even the might of the Varangast could not stem the tide.

Oster, Master of the Throne, was mortally wounded by an assassin, and the wardens were brought low by their failure. Before Oster perished, they beseeched him, praying that he would punish them and, in so doing, erase their shame. Oster chose instead to bless them, a last act of mercy. His own soul would be entombed within the Throne of Olem, and the souls of the Varangast would become its guardians, transformed into Legacies that would remain ever watchful, lending their strength to protect the vision of the Triumvirate.

When Osterath was besieged, and doom was certain, the survivors fled carrying the greatest treasures of a dying age. The Andravon, once a stone statue that guarded the entry into the Throne chamber, was broken off and mounted on a shield. It has been wielded only by the most devout faithful, who dream of restoring a world long lost. It has the power to sacrifice those bound by oath to the Triumvirate, protecting others, so that the will of its long-lost masters is realized.

Seeker's Purpose

Sigrith is a true believer, perhaps more so than even some high-ranking members of the Valcarist Church. She knows in her heart that the vision of the Triumvirate, one of heaven on earth, is still possible and that any price is worth paying to achieve it. Still, her heart grows heavy as the Andravon, in its unknowable wisdom, directs her to let the innocent perish, or even to smite them herself, so the will of the Triumvirate may come to pass. Compassionate as she may be, her duty leaves little room for mercy.

Character Story

From the Malediction, the festering wound that bleeds chaos, emerged a monstrous titan unlike any other being in Selejia. At first regarded as mere myth by the different nations, the sudden increase of caravan raids, the disappearance of scouts within Paxos, and the reported animosity between kiths made it clear that something had drastically changed.

The first concrete report came from a single soldier from the Order, found battered and in a state of shock. His small warband had been sent to investigate farmsteads near Paxos, after their tithes stopped flowing. What they found was utter carnage, propagated by a monstrous giant, whose single eye shone like freshly spilled blood. The soldier dropped his gear and ran, leaving his peers behind to their fate. The Order attempted to keep this story a secret, but it soon made its way through the trade routes, reaching Belyos and Quinvala. Thus, the legend began.

Now deemed one of the great banes that treads Selejia, those who follow Thundersteps claim to be enraptured by a fervor greater even than that of the battle-concoctions brewed by the shamans. His presence kindles a fire held deep within their souls, growing from a soft whisper to a mighty bellow, until it can no longer be denied. Although many attribute this to Thundersteps himself, the wise know this battle rage seeps from his Legacy.

Since his arrival, Thundersteps has had a strange effect on the Primal Blood. Long-isolated Kiths were drawn forth, choosing to align themselves with Thundersteps, or else against him. Paxos, already one of the most dangerous regions on Selejia, became a death sentence for anyone travelling without a small warband. A new age, however, is about to begin.

Some shamans claim to have translated Thundersteps’ strange language, professing that he is the will of Ymiris made manifest, who came to guide his followers into the Malediction, where the All-Mother waits to be released from her pain.

Legacy — Storm’s Eye, Jewel of Rage

Many who have witnessed Thundersteps were left staggered by the sight. After all, he is the sole known member of his species, a being who speaks in a strange language, following naught but his unknown whims. What no one knows, however, is how chaotic the cyclops’s mind is. For Thundersteps, his past comes in feverish, half-remembered visions, where memory and insanity blend together in a cacophony of thoughts.

The Storm’s Eye shines, and Thundersteps’ memories slowly come back to him, as he sleeps under the smoke of burnt incense and the chant of the shamans. He dreams of the pressure of chains around his body, of his powerlessness as a red gem eclipses his vision, and the excruciating pain of it puncturing his eye. He dreams of combat, as he fights in the shadows of massive walls, his blows breaking horror-struck soldiers. He dreams of others like him, fallen to the ground, their grayish skin painted red by their own blood, as golden soldiers slit their throats. He dreams of defiance, of crushing his oppressors beneath his feet, and the short-lived joy that follows. He hears a rumbling, a deafening scream that cascades into a thousand horrified others. He dreams of anguish, hatred, and despair, but above all, he dreams of rage.

While other Seekers are empowered by their Legacies, Thundersteps is tormented by his, as the jewel burns his mind with unfathomable wrath, demanding revenge for a long forgotten crime. At the first sight of the enemy, he feels the rage seeping from his eye like a disease, overwhelming his mind and infecting those around him. Something has changed, however, for the Storm’s Eye now sears Thundersteps’ mind with visions that chart a path through the Malediction—offering long-sought answers. The cyclops will reach the truth, even if he must climb a mountain of fresh bodies, for he has been blind for too long.

Seeker's Purpose

Even as Thundersteps’ uncanny emergence sparks rumors about his origins, his goals are stranger still. Whatever the truth might be, it is undeniable that his behavior mirrors that of the Malediction. He is chaotic, aggressive, and brutal, and his mere presence seems to instigate the same fervor in his followers. However, there is more to Thundersteps than the eye can see, for the Tyran is lost, but he is seeking. Inside the Malediction, he follows a path only he can see, laid out before him by his Legacy, guiding him to a Relic he is yet to find.

Character Story

Known for his dangerous charm, words sharp as knives, and by his skill and ruthlessness on the battlefield, Vorendal’s presence is difficult to ignore. Alluring even, in the most dangerous way. Rumors abound, but he is careful to confirm or deny nothing, preferring to cultivate an aura of mystery and danger.

Lord Stevas Vorendal first achieved the renown he now enjoys two hundred years ago, during the infamous Luminous Crusade. Tensions rose when the Order initiated a religious purge, marching on the Sovereign City-States of the continent, trying to force them to ban any faith that contradicted the Word of Valcaris. When they laid siege to the trade city of Veloma, the Legion refused to vacate. They stood their ground for the sake of principle, but also to garner trust with the free powers.

Few thought victory could be achieved, but Vorendal was above the myopic beliefs of the fold. Presenting himself directly to the Queen of the Dead, he promised to end the battle with infallible haste, for he needed naught but the royal endorsement. The Queen shivered at the proclamation; not for fear of the man himself, but rather, of what his words and demeanor implied. She had always known what terrible price would have to be paid to defeat the armies of the enemy, the atrocities that would have to be committed, and before her stood one who would pay that price with a smile. Her blessing was given, and Vorendal was set loose upon the world.

Using the Legacy that resides within his chest, the Heartlock, he raised an army from the corpses of Order loyalists, commonfolk, and soldiers alike. With each kill, his army grew, for the risen dead welcomed their kindred with no prejudice. Soon, he broke the siege at the city-state of Veloma, a wave of death tearing through the Order’s forces in such heartless fashion that few remained of the attackers to be given rites by the Valcarist Priests. By the end of a single day, the Order was forced to retreat, never again overreaching in the same manner.

This exceptional achievement elevated Vorendal to the position of right hand to the Queen, but the Dreadheart wouldn’t accept being second best. While in court, he plotted patiently for the day he would be finally crowned as the King of the Dead, only to be scorned by the Amatrix and the spirit of Ptan-Ravalum. Vorendal’s rage could not be measured, but he refused to accept defeat. In the Malediction, he seeks the power to bend the Amatrix to his will, for if the Vestige won’t accept him freely, then it will be conquered.

Legacy — The Heartlock

Lord Vorendal’s striking presence is partly due to the Legacy embedded in his chest, the Dreadheart, emanating the dark energy that sustains both the Fallen knight and the corpses he raises. However, long before he was by the Queen’s side, during the beginning of the Age of Legacy, Vorendal was already a feared and powerful warlord, with a different name, now lost to time. Feeling the weight of the years creeping up on him, he searched Selejia for the means of overcoming death. He had too much yet to achieve to allow the failure of his mortal body to get in his way.

His search led him to a nomadic clan of erisyr. These mages had witnessed the Fall and sworn to prevent dangerous magical knowledge and powerful artifacts of old from falling into the wrong hands. These Keepers protected a number of Legacies, whose names and deeds should be erased from history. Lacking the power to destroy them, the Keepers maintained watch over the Legacies. Among these people, Vorendal met Akriphista, a young erisyr with a talent for combining different magical traditions. With a young soul and unlimited curiosity, she fell for his charms. Without even realizing her error, her knowledge fell into his hands, and Vorendal learned the secret of the Heartlock, a Legacy that could extend one’s life.

A ritual was performed, and Vorendal cast away his heart of flesh for one of cold stone and metal. It consumed what was left of his humanity, becoming a malignant source of power. Crafted from a soul who once paved the path to victory with blood and pain, the Heartlock had found the perfect host in the warlord. As long as Vorendal walks forward, leaving a path of death and destruction behind him, the Heartlock will keep his body from the rot that awaits beyond the veil. The Legacy’s energy allows Vorendal to deny death not only for himself, but for the pawns he enlists to help him carve his own path to glory.

Seeker's Purpose

Stevas Vorendal sees himself as the only worthy leader for the Legion, the only one capable of guiding it to true victory, for his mind is unclouded by useless emotions, such as mercy or love. He is a Fallen, beyond the reach of death and decay, but still possessed of his own mind and free will. His long centuries have made him a great warrior, but one who sees the value in using fear as a weapon, one just as sharp as his sword. The terror he inflicts is not a whim, but a tool he uses to great effect. He has conquered death, and the world is to follow.