From the depths of the void the masses crash through the Gates of Forlorn and wreak havok on the world of men. The flood is an unending tide of chaos and destruction that is everlasting. Their thirst for blood is surpassed only by the rising of the son, on it stands eternal. On the comming of the Flood, the children of the lost god will reign supreme on a charred world where the people are enslaved, and the rulers are Demonblood.
- Excerpt from the tome of Caedmon.
“I see an upstart within the ranks of the Ba’craht. This can not be. I, Sarku the Impaler of a Thousand Children, am forced to qwell those who try to supplant their superiors yet again. It is good to be me.”
Sarku the Impaler of a Thousand Children, Murder of the Coup of Hundred Souls, Judge of the Three
Abject beauty corupted with a dark soul and no heart. Can beauty be the ultimate evil?
“Sir, Legatus Suuhai has commanded us to hold and prepare for flank attacks from the enemy. He said we are to hold and be ready to sweep among them. Your order?
Order? If Legatus Suuhai says to hold then we wait. He among the half breeds I respect. He stands like a bastion of strength when those stronger leave puddles at their feet. He says hold, we hold. But tell the others, soon we shall run and blood shall spill this day at our hooves and claws and the Dark Moon shall reign superior yet again.”
Sedecim Ductor Octavious - Commander of the 6th Divortium of the Army of Blades.
Many know the image of the Night-Mare, a sable horse wreathed in a nimbus of hellfire sent from the underworld every night to deliver dreams of terror and fear to the living. While this is not entirely incorrect, the truth is more complicated…
What can be more maddening than the eternal sobbing of a child whom no one can comfort?
"Reports of those damned Atistaur are filtering back among the Hundtaur. Send a unit over to have them silenced. The last thing I need is something else in my brain telling me what I need to do.
Slaughter them all and pray to the Weapon that Kills that this day will be bloody. Sing the song of your God and may they get you through today!"
- Legatus Suuhai - Commander of the Minotaur Armies of the Blades
The spirit which dies with a murderous rage upon it’s conscience cannot rest, and re-inhabits the corpse it once dwelt in, stalking the earth in search of one thing: revenge.
In the strict caste based society of the mystical sub-continent of Valur, belief in re-incarnation is powerful and the concept of ‘‘dah’‘, or the actions of one’s previous life having far reaching consequences for the present one, holds powerful sway. Thus, does one receive great punishment or reward in his next life, depending on the actions of his current existence.
The Cyahoi are horrific undead beings created as powerful servants by the cults of the frightful Lord Sarku, flesh-eating Master of the Living Dead. They are animalistic and violent creatures whose lower, animal souls have been driven wild with spiritual starvation, and whose higher, reasoning souls are held captive in their black hearts.
“Since the vile Plante’s Deceased Hoste is not technically a Part of its Anatomy, any attemptes to Kill the Monster using regular methods is likely to prove Futile, especially that of Beheading the Creature. It seems to regarde its Head as a most Unnecessary part of its Composition, and thus as it moves its Head exhibits a frightening lacke of Expression, and lolls in a way most Unpleasant to observe.”
Simultaneously feared and desired by mages, Cool blue reasons are the collections of negative energy and the absence of emotion. A Reason appears as a tapering worm of translucent blue-black color, nearing one foot in length at the time of creation, though through their feeding on emotion can grow to be miles long.
The Cynocephali are those wretched beings who are cursed to walk the earth after death for the betrayal of those most dear to them. The gods look upon such traitors with terrible anger, and as such, those who do nothing to remedy their betrayal or offset the sin are doomed to an eternal unlife, bearing the head of a dog.
The Sark-Hound is a basic form of Sark which is created for a very specific purpose, to wit, the hunting and killing of the necromancer’s enemies (in Centas, the place of the banal zombie is taken by these creatures).
Many of the Undead face this terrible fate for mistakes of their own. Dark sins, or conscience heavy for the criminal deeds they have commited, they cannot pass on and linger in this world. But some do not deserve this curse…
There are some men who treat their wives the way they would chattel,that is,with utter control and domination,regarding their spouses not as independent beings entitled to their free will,but as mere objects of theirs,subject to the will of their lords. Such is the nature of those doomed to become the Possessive Ones,upon their death.
The Crawling Ghosts (from Parsic “yabuj”, “it crawls”) are the loathsome, disturbing ghosts of those who die lonely and rejected, shut-ins and the forgotten.
A Hungry Ghost is born when the lower soul (the animal soul of the body, containing physical urges and violences) becomes angered and, rather than descending to the Underworld, lashes out against the living, which, in its instinctive state and having dulled senses, it percieves as enemies who have “wronged” it.
Undead are, simply put, among the most horrific things one can think of. Can you imagine anything more frightening than a being which is dead and yet still walks? Can you imagine the horror of being faced by the hollow shell of being, a hollow shell which must feed?
There was once a tribe of humans that was referred to as “the Wild Ones.” They were humans who were linked to the wild natural world, having animal characteristics.
The First Ones, The Kan-Yow, are the only non constructed beings to know the face of their Creator God. They were born as the world was being made. Tutored by their God (Kanchiyonnaho), they developed a perfect society immersed in the magic of the world. The Kan-Yow breathed magic, they are saturated with it, and they are bound to it as the world itself. As the Gods have withdrawn from the Mythic Lands, as the blessing of Time has graced the World, they have become the guardians of The Magic and The World.
A friendly human hunter has a talk with you about what you are doing here, and how is the weather. He advises you to not disturb the animals, tend to any fire you set, etc. This is actually a werewolf checking his territory, and if you are not to his liking, he may ambush you with his pack later.