A name shrouded in the mists of time. A scheme of pure genius. A relic of the Mage Wars.
The Blood Beast, while originally a construct, has surpassed its beginnings to assume a place of infamy.
Blood. Ah, yes. Blood. Such a wonderful tool when you know how to use it. Welcome, my friend, to the wonderful world of Blood Magic.
...The ring slid onto her finger as if it were lovingly crafted just for her. Its diamond seemed to take in the sunlight, amplify and reflect it in every direction. Then almost immediately, the light waned and the stone went dark. Her throat clutched in a constricting gurgle before she slumped to the ground, still and lifeless.
A town has a festival every year in the dead of winter. The festival of birds. The towns folk dress in feathery robes and beaked masks and dance and frolic in the belief that the changes of the seasons are controlled by the presence of birds. According to tradition, the festival tricks Spring into coming early because the birds have returned.