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Lore Collection & Latest Info
General info:Lore Collection & Latest Info
One part of the starting world is dark and dreary and full of evil Baba Yaga-esque witches and demigods and even gods who just want to consume, kill, destroy. So their children, all kinds of aberrations, litter the world. A lot of the Necromantic nobility and the royal family flex their strength by having as many horrific monsters under their thumb as possible. The more fucked up and hard to control, the more respect you get.
There are also all kinds of insidious people, plots and plans. The royal family is not to be fucked with out of respect and admiration, and by the weaker ones, fear, but they are not a dictatorship or something else so meager. They are more akin to an absolute monarchy, but their role is to keep other kingdoms in check and protect their people, not so much lord their power over them.
I think you can compare it to... um... uhhh... I can't think of any one thing in particular but you mentioned The Witcher, that's somewhat of a good indication, but there are not many similarities other than monsters abound, and magical creatures are normal. Maybe it is a little bit like LOTR in that sense? But it's like an Edgar Allan Poe, gothic horror, supernatural dark fantasy type thing.
The magic system... ah, the magic system. I am not home so I am typing this on my phone, but here is the core idea:
You borrow from and manipulate nature. If a magic is more powerful and dark, you will probably have to pay some kind of price. The more powerful, the heftier the price. It's mostly as a force that exists within nature's forces, which the beings it made can channel into their will. It's as much a force as gravity (ok bad example that's convoluted... I'll say as gravity in the high school physics sense) and electromagnetism. In fact, that's a really good parallel. Instead of electronic components channelling electricity or your cells exchanging electrons and ions, you get to control this '5th force of nature' called magic. If we include humans, they would have to either learn through years and years and difficult trials to harness magic, be gifted by a deity or cursed by a malicious being, or basically never be able to control it. They somehow evolved without the biomagical systems to be able to channel it.
The force itself comes in a pure form, like raw energy, and the wielder can form it into what they wish, which is why it looks like many different types.
Technology in this world is more like pre-industrial Victorian times. People are starting to dabble with steampunk type technologies, and maybe even things like hextech if you've seen Arcane (not sure about adding this yet, or if we do want it, it'd be super new and belong to one of the other regions. I think I forgot to mention this but we would be in a world made of 4-5 kingdoms with distinct specialities and philosophies. While the dark area is full of monsters, others can be full of other mythical beings, dangerous and majestic and peaceful. Ofc you have non-harmful beings in the dark area too, but those are far and few inbetween.
There are 2 moons and a rocky ring around the planet."
New information:
The world is composed of 4-5 kingdoms (probably 4), with the above, horror-centred one being one of them.
The kingdoms:
1. Denhart: dark, gothic, Edgar-Allan-Poe meets the Witcher world.2. Nannallia: the fae kingdom, full of wonderful beings, playful tricksters, psychedelic, crazy forests that you can get lost in for centuries, hags of a different kind from those of the Denhart region, so on. This place is full of free-dwellers, but near multiple castles and bigger gatherings which could be cities, some nobility and some richer 'laypeople' coexist.
3. Karvia, the steampunk kingdom. Relying on steampunk technology, full of awesome airships with magical-energy cannons, full of strange and wonderful beings similar to lizardines, marine-type beings, mermaids, humans(?), maybe even elvish type beings.
4. The Vleugsians, from The Vleugs Kingdom. The Sky Island' type of 'floating city' which is gold and white and full of pegasi and celestial-type beings, astronomers, sky-gazers, beings with wings, knowledge and poetry seekers... this kingdom used to be a powerful empire that lost against a rebellion about 300 years ago.
5. Potential fifth 'kingdom', which is subservient to The Vleugs and is an island in the sea, somewhere below Vleugs.
"Hmm so Denhart were sort of like colonial Britain? I was actually aiming for having them be the 'outcasts' because of their natural inclinations. However, I actually think making the sky people (if you guys like the idea of the 4th kingdom being a floating island kingdom) be the Imperialists. Maybe they were so arrogant and powerful due to their position (I mean, the could fly lol), but their influence got culled a long time ago. Now they kind of live in isolation up in the sky, bitter about their loss. I want to keep Denhart as the 'misunderstood' necromancers who live hard lives and as such are tough and 'evil' in the eyes of the other kingdoms. Perhaps they started the rebellion a long time ago, but the other kingdoms willingly ignore that because they think they're creepy and distrust their 'evil ways'.
The fae kingdom (I say fae because it's not just faeries, it's anything fae), Nannallia, can be the way you described it. I don't want to make Denhartians the villains because it feels too antithetical to what I designed them as, and also I think it's too easy to make them the villains, lol. Their whole philosophy is that they might be necromantic and seemingly 'evil', but they are too hastily misjudged by the other kingdoms.
The steampunk kingdom could have learned certain technologies, which they turned into steam-based due to their proximity to water sources and such, which can be seen as the effect of the influence the Empire had on them before they lost their grip.
If you want a separate, annexed kingdom (something else, not the fae because they are ancient and started up a long, long time ago, before they got subjugated), we could make an island nation in the sea, under the floating kingdom give or take, who operate as an extension of the sky people."
The Plot:
What if the thing that brings our characters together is:The Korakis are really annoyed with monster hunters killing their creatures. They see it as an affront to nature, which raises tensions between the lands. This upsets the fae, who constantly have to deal with monsters slipping out of the dark forests of the Denhart kingdom, eating fae like snacks. They hire monster-hunters with contracts (the royal family themselves would do this), so this raises an issue between those very closely located realms.
Meanwhile, the Vleugs have been sending their flying people to sneak into the Denhart kingdom and basically drop monsters onto the different lands, smack dab in the middle of them, near cities, etc, trying to frame them for being out to get the other kingdoms. Because the Vleugs are sick of being weakened and want their Imperial control back.
The land of Karvia are especially affected by this, having had a large creature lay waste to one of their biggest cities. They have to rebuild and it costs them a lot, but the Korakis are innocent so of course they refuse to pay recompense. Tensions steadily rise.
The only people who know about what the Vleugs are doing are [REDACTED], so you guys won't know yet who's responsible :)
But since the Korakis are adamant they are not doing it, an inter-realm meeting is planned to take place in a few days.
Possible characters that can attend this are:
Princes and princesses ofc, royal guards, spies, contracted protectors... basically people who will stumble upon a secret that makes them sure they found something and they need to convince they royal families to hold back on war (even though preparations are secretly being made everywhere). The event is planned to be a week-long affair, which in this world is 9 days because why not, and they have a renovated hunting lodge owned by the fae kingdom preferably, which is in one of the truly wild locations of the world, prepared for this. Sleeping rooms, meals, servants, everything is there.
I think this event will kickstart the investigation that brings our characters together.
More Fleshed Out:
The Kingdoms:1. Denhart: dark, gothic, Edgar-Allan-Poe meets the Witcher world. (more incoming).
It has a lot of different environments (aka forests, swamps, volcanic lands; these are closer to the coast). It has things like forest clearings with an enormous lake, where a big island in the middle hosts a tower full of spooky evil witches (it 100% has this).In a world such as this, where monsters are constantly harrying people, a group or some individuals will have some reason to seek vengeance upon monsters, or help people from other kingdoms kill monsters, so monster hunters (groups or otherwise) exist. Now, the royal family, the Korakis, are very proud of the monsters in their lands, so people who specifically are out to kill monsters (even the ones who sneak out of their borders!) are seen as... well... enemies. In fact, rumour has it that the Korakis house a leviathan-scale basilisk under their castle, who eats monster hunters when they are caught!
Currency: the currency in Denhart is called Korak(s), and it is a simple system of: Gold Koraks, Silver Koraks, and a Kork is copper. More wealthy people sometimes have access to rare forms of currency such as an Elentrum Korak, which is even rarer than gold. It's made of the teeth of sirens that live in the lakes of Denhart. Even rarer than that is a 'fossilised' basilisk's eye, something that appears black and blue at once, shines with a peculiar rose light in the twilight sun, yet shines a sparkly blue in the moonlight. You can buy a house with those, lol. They call them Korak Stones.
2. [General:] Nannallia: the fae kingdom, full of wonderful beings, playful tricksters, psychedelic, crazy forests that you can get lost in for centuries, hags of a different kind from those of the Denhart region, so on. This place is full of free-dwellers, but near multiple castles and bigger gatherings which could be cities, some nobility and some richer 'laypeople' coexist.
[RK]: Faeries are the most organised and humanoid of the fae creatures, having built the first advanced civilization in a bygone era that contributed fundamentally to early understanding of the world as well as culture and philosophy (Think maybe Ancient Greece in terms of cultural importance). In present times the modern incarnation of Nannallia has long since stopped being the cultural powerhouse of the continent, but they remain a considerably powerful nation nonetheless with relatively good diplomatic relations with the other Kingdoms.
I think due to their fae nature they are naturally charismatic beings, and this manifests in their magical abilities revolving around psychological manipulation (To charm, influence emotion, hallucinate, the like) enchantment of weapons and items, as well as the knack of illusifying and decrypting messages, images, and other forms of visual communication.
Faeries are mostly humanoid but possess 4 wings that allow them powered flight, which are made up long muscles stretching from the band blood, extremely flexible and stiffen in flight. They are covered in chitinous scales which reflect a blue-purple metallic sheen. The agility and speed at which they fly is partially influenced from innate magic that fairies evolved to facilitate flight. Their skin is usually fair but posses some bluish sheen, and hair that ranges from shockingly white to jet black. Eyes can be a myriad of different colors, and glow softly when using magical powers concerning psychological manipulation
They worship the twin gods of the two moons (More elaboration on this necessary)
They speak Faeish, which is shared among other Fae creatures and has many dialects. (I'm thinking I'm going to base this language on Irish)
3. Karvia, the steampunk kingdom. Relying on steampunk technology, full of awesome airships with magical-energy cannons, full of strange and wonderful beings similar to lizardines, marine-type beings, mermaids, humans(?), maybe even elvish type beings.
4. The Vleugsians, from The Vleugs Kingdom. The Sky Island' type of 'floating city' which is gold and white and full of pegasi and celestial-type beings, astronomers, sky-gazers, beings with wings, knowledge and poetry seekers... this kingdom used to be a powerful empire that lost against a rebellion about 300 years ago.
Vleugs don't really use magic as much as it is inherently a part of their daily life, yes, you're correct. They 'have it' and it's in normal things, like for example their airships, their architecture (clocks running on magical energy, things like that), they study it diligently like good lil wizards, in fact, in their beautiful enormous gilded academies (they have 3 of them, each one in each 'corner' of the island; I'll make that map too
), their education always includes 'magic studies' and things like potioncraft and so on, alongside history, maths, biology and magobiology, so on. I'm gonna make a big ass lore binder at this point, so many cool details!5. The Island of Dadagash (named after the volcano).
What if the fifth kingdom is truly in the dumps? Barely a 'kingdom', they used to be a simple island full of people who were just trying to fish and live peacefully, lol. When the Vleugs were the Vleug Empire, they didn't like these 'filthy fish eaters' thinking about venturing out into the rest of the world. So, they forcibly kept them in check, militarising a once peaceful world. They kept bringing in their influence until the past identity of the islanders was practically erased. Perhaps they have a large volcano on one end of the large island, and they used to worship it as a god. Now, the Vleugs have 'modernised' their land, building large structures, turning it into a city. The academy would sit near the volcano and would train select few individuals (because too many would be too obvious) who truly excel and are fit for this task.
Now, I'm imagining the city as a dreary, militaristic place with ugly blocky buildings and a North Korea/Nazi Germany atmosphere. The people live horrible lives and have no public voice. This could actually start a spark of rebellion, secret meetings underground.
I'm imagining the main city has a gigantic ugly building in the middle, where the military which is now made of more native islanders than Vleugs controls everything. Funnily enough, there's no one leader like a king, but a council of 5 highest ranking soldiers, 2 of which are islanders (imagine that, hogging the majority vote lol).
They Vleugs get something good from them. Fishing, farming...
What if... what if they make them work on a really dangerous, magic-poisonous (like literal magic diseases, almost like breathing in pure radiation over years, but on the lower end) experiment, like attached to that large military complex is a mago-lab (for their astronomy and biology and mago-biology research) where they basically have slave workers (maybe we can have a non-human species mostly inhabiting this island, and the Vleugs [they themselves looking like humanoid eagles, people with wings and strange skin or scales and such, maybe other bird-like beings, maybe something similar to a flying vampire; think that ancient flying vampire from Underworld] see them as inferior) working on some dangerous experiments that make their population sick with bizarre magical illnesses over time and the Vleugs don't want to take responsibility and act like they didn't do anything wrong.
State of Country Connections:
Nannallia and Karvia I think love each other. They are close to each other in an east-west way, and Denhart is to the south-west of the continent and south-west-ish of the Fae, but you already know there are tensions there. Denhart and Nannallia don't really have an alliance but they leave each other alone, more or less. Like diplomatic neutrality.
The Vleugs hate everyone and they're very uppity and holier-than-thou, so they also don't form alliances, you already know they keep dark dirty secrets from the others.
So I'd say diplomatic neutrality, an annexed island under the Vleugs, and an alliance between the Fae and the steampunk zone.
Btw, I think humans would be scattered around the world, but most of them would be in Karvia.
LORE DUMP INCOMING
Creation Myth:
Millennia ago, this land of (name pending) was inhabited by the most basic, most powerful form of beings. The closest thing to a god, they were pure energy, pure elements, incarnate. They consisted of 7 major players:
The Vampire Queen, who fed on the blood of the fauna that had been born out of the birth cries of the world. In the creation myth, the universe came out of an egg lain by a titanic being so ancient and so powerful, they basically create new worlds out of these eggs. Some succeed, some fail, but for the most part, the titans leave the worlds be.
There are 4 titans, each of which imbued the worlds they created with 4 basic things:
1. Magic
2. Energy
3. Conservation laws (aka physics)
4. A duality of chaos and order.
When a world is born and breaks out of its shell, the pure energy, forced into that thin membrane, expands rapidly, creating a myriad of beautiful things in the process. Darkness mixes with magic, light with chaos, things go crazy for a while before planets and stars and galaxies settle down. In fact, in these cosmos, the world is a bit closer together than ours, warmer, more alight, and has less galactic structures and more 'spread out webs of stuff' with voids of chaos in-between, where a mysterious entity named Kaosika is said to reside.
From this, many planets had their primordials. Ours specifically had those 7, called The Priodies:
1. The Vampire Queen, who fed on the blood of the fauna that had been born out of the birth cries of the world.
2. The Ghoul Queen, who fed on anything dead and 'recycled' life.
3. The Lord of Liches, who became the most powerful of any lich alive at the time
4. The Sun Breather, a gorgeous deity with skin made of light, who synthesised with the power of the sun all kinds of new life (it is said the fae are their creation). They're a genderless light being.
5. The Caretaker, the incarnation of nature itself. This force permeates all of creation, and it's the progenitor of various flora and fauna, imbued with magic and otherwise (most things have a base level of magical essence; it's simply imbued in everything. Think CMB from the big bang!)
6. The Turnicator, a being who could make others see things that were not there. They were able to tap into the minds of beings and alter what they saw, whisper lies, fill the underground dwellers with doubts, cause wars amongst the civilisations that later rose as evolution did its thing, and basically kept on being a force that churned the pot of evil of the world.
7. The Merkatror, a creature who could pull on the strings of time, causality, and the forces of nature (all 5, which we have 5 of, as discussed before), manipulate realities, bring about new creatures, and experiment with what could happen if they changed some fates. They don't always have access to the strings of fate which are tethered to all beings (rainbow strange translucent-ish things which look like cartilage, always stuck to the creature but always malleable with new decisions). They were able to make new stars, pretty much. They are the reason we have a ring of a past moon around the planet.
They are now long gone, they left the planet a long time ago because they kept in-fighting, so they went and found their own unique domains lol. But! They have many descendants; powerful beings abound, of many power levels, all across the universe.
Now, modern day beings:
1. Humans:
Humans evolved from ancient creatures who dwelled in swamps, near lakes and by/under volcanoes. They were humanoid but did not look very human; think fully black eyes, blue skin, gills in some cases, etc.
On an unfortunate night, their most powerful leader grew far too arrogant with power and desire to rule and conquer. Whether he was cursed or he was simply like that, we do not know. In his arrogance, he challenged The Priodies (The primordials) for dominion over the planet of Zhar (our planet has a name! Lmk if you agree with it). He was actually, impressively, able to pass 5 out of their 7 challenges, but on the 6th, his very power failed him. Enraged by his behaviour and absolutely delighted in his failure, the 7 cursed his descendants. They stripped them of their magical powers over generations, so it would be a truly powerful, painful experience: each new generation was just a little less capable, giving families moments of true tragedy as their child failed to do some basic things. Eventually, humans lost their touch with their ancestors and began to move towards human crafts: mining, building, woodworking... villages of humans became a thing, getting farther and farther away from their roots, settling farther away from danger. Eventually, the modern day human came to be. This is why some humans are actually still somewhat capable of learning magic without a curse or a pact. It's just super rare, like a hidden mutation, locked away in their DNA's past.
Denhartians:
Denhartians, or the majority of Denhart, is populated by a type of species which appears humanoid but are often far more beautiful on average (you saw Allara), but they are physically and biologically different from humans. Denhartians are mostly a species that was created eons ago by a super powerful necromancer (lich-like) who mixed the essences of 3 different monsters with his essence, an undead, evil, foul energy, to produce 3 distinct but very similar in appearance subspecies.
He mixed:
1. An anthropophagus, whose very essence was actually mixed with that of a powerful ghoul queen.
2. The father of corvids, an enormous tall being who basically was the first, gigantic raven, and the progenitor of hags and witches.
3. The forest nymphs, specifically from those by rivers and creeks, and those hiding in the trees. Also the ones who appeared as pure beasts, giving Denhartians a natural knack for domesticating otherwise horrendous creatures (think Koraki basilisk).
The very first Denhartians, whose species name gave their kingdom its moniker, were a bit more monstrous and ferocious. Over time, the 3 subspecies turned into different creatures. Allara's family comes from a mixture between the 3, direct descendant of one of the most powerful triards to have ever lived. Hence their status as the royal family.
The Vleugs:
They do not have humans in Vleug. Vleugs think humans are poopy, lol.
The Vleug variant of Denhartians (a humanoid species that is not human): They would've been made by The Sun Breather and The Merkatror. They have a natural affinity for air-based magicks, they are naturally talented at reading and understanding the stars and the sky, and they have the more gifted ones with lightning/storm/weather abilities.
IN FACT, HOLY CRAP I LOVE THIS, at night, some (or all!!!) of them have this glowing blue light littered with stars under their skin. You can see it under the moonlight!!! They are often pale with violet undertones, blue undertones, or golden undertones. The glowing sky can also vary in colour: dark violet, a beautiful golden sheet covered in twinkling stars...
They also have vibrant eye colours. They almost glow.
Tbh a very good parallel for the vibe is the Awoken from Destiny (but note the details are rather different and they are fundamentally different!).
Lifespan averages:
Denhartians: 730-913 years (cause necromantic origins and practices etc)
Vleugs: Since they have about 7-9 subspecies, they each have their lifespan. They range from 170-680. The anthropomorphic birds (we can call them Velisse?) are more short-lived, 170-200 max usually, the Valisgth: 300 average, 500 super old, the ones with strange scaly skin and small frames and many wing varieties range from 80-120, and so on. I'll have to flesh out the subspecies more, and name them.
Humans: about the same as us but slightly slower ageing.
Fae: Probably in the general range of 300-700, depending on species? Up to you I think @RK.
[RK.] :The Fae: (Faeish: Nannalann)
Faeries (Faeish: siógann)- Beautiful, charismatic, manipulative beings with four wings: 600-670 years
Gnomes (Faeish: Gnammann)- Short, stout and rocky skinned little people who are excellent builders and extremely resistent to magic: 230-280 years
Banshees: (Faeish: bean sídheann)- Beautiful red haired women with pale skin and knife ears who posses clairvoyence, future-telling, and supernatural screams: 600-700 years
Goblins (Faeish: Púcann)- Short, lithe framed agile creatures who are excellent shapeshifters and nocturnal: 400-430 years
The Ghillie Dhu (Faeish: Ghilli Dhuhann)- Similar to Faeries though shorter, wingless, and nocturnal, always with black hair and an affinity for spellcasting rather than charm: 600-650 years
The Fetch (Faeish: Gan Aghaidhann)- Tall people with no true face, mirroring the faces of those they have encountered. The Fetch can pass through space like mist: 400-450 years
Satyrs: (Faeish: Aoirann) Shorter brown haired men with the horns and legs of a goat, able to play the most enchanting and hypnotic tunes with supernaturally heightened senses: 300-400 years
Writings from the old RP where this world came to life (Athanatos is now Denhart!):
The Athanatos Kingdom, Evening of the Gala
At the edges of the Athanatos kingdom lay a large, foggy lake, its still surface like that of a silver looking-glass, unnerving in its immovability. The fluid always took on the look of quicksilver as the thick, heavy fog settled over the large, generally abandoned forests of The Silver Lake, colloquially known as The Misty Forest, owing to its unnatural grimness and heavy, relentless, never-ending mist. In the middle of the silver waters jutted out a little island covered in black dirt, devoid of everything but one large, perpetually leafless tree, seemingly dead in all but one form: it kept growing in size, as if it hungered to block out the horizon and overtake the whole world with its darkness, with its elongated, twisted branches, extending like the half broken fingers of a greedy witch. Along a path that rose from the edge of the island, just a few feet from the Melancholy Tree, were black roses that grew in large multitudes, making the black dirt even darker. The path climbed up the rocky island, something like obsidian in its appearance, up the little hill atop which resided a tall, stone-carved, medieval looking, strangely thin and twisty ancient circular tower. The tops were covered in something like thatch the colour of raven feathers, with little extensions that provided cover and protection in all directions, but it gave the roof an eldritch, monstrous look, as if a multi-limbed creature rested atop this menacing structure.
Along its tall, domineering walls were the odd window here and there, but the tower was structured very carefully and for a very specific purpose. Other than little alcoves along the walls that extended from the spiral staircase, it looked as if this whole place was made to house a thin spine of steps that took its travellers all the way to the top, some impressively and horrifyingly high altitudes without any railings, as if it challenged travellers to come and break their necks. Regardless, the group of three never left the top, which meant they never had to deal with such risks. It was their followers whom had to show courage as they ascended to receive their blessings. Today, however, there would be no blessings or curses bestowed upon any followers. Today the sisters collected their strange group to perform an entirely all too important endeavour.
The Three Sisters of the Athanatos Kingdom. Ah, they were creatures of legend, tales spun about them throughout all the kingdoms… if you went below ground enough, to areas deep and dark and full of hatred. Where desperation led the poor and the shamed, the name was whispered in hushed tones amongst the angry and afraid alike. The Three Sisters. The Three Witches. The Dark Crones. The Eldritch Triad. They came in many forms, as did their rumoured appearances. Skinny, bony, twisted, ugly, horrific, overweight, three heads attached to one body, beautiful temptresses, like goddesses from the grave…
But their truth was only known to them and a select few, as well as the protectors of the Koraki Crown. The true source of power for the king and queen of Athanatos. In their circle of 12 powerful sorcerers, they had started training Allara since a very young age, so she may complete their circle as their thirteenth. She would fulfil her destiny, her true purpose, and bring forth the era they were all promised. A world of darkness and power, where every single bastard who dared to humiliate the Korakis and banish them from all political and recreational interactions would rue the day they looked down their nose upon the family of necromancers. Did they not know better? What kind of fools anger dark sorcerers?
Regardless of reason or logic, darkness reigned supreme when hatred and rage stirred in the hearts of mortals. With such easy temptations available, Chrysalia and Cedrick did what was necessary. With their plot in motion, the wheels of power turning in their favour, the entire family put on a show of high society and elegance, the star pupil delivering in every perfect step she took, far away in the land of colour and light, as the sisters saw through their large, translucent orb, the shadows that usually filled it now scattered to the bottoms and to the sides to give them a direct view of her work. Keats made such a connection even easier, as a long time ago, he was taken to an alley…
8 years ago, Athanatos Kingdom, Near The Crescent City
Sickle Town, The Corn and Scarecrow Pub
"Won't your parents find out?" Keats asked in a huff, his tone fearful and excited all at once. Allara's dazzling pink gaze, full of dancing stars of madness and glee, snapped in his direction. The two were in a little room in the back rooms of the pub, an inn of some sort, and the young couple loved going there to destress and to spend their time in passionate embraces, fuelled by blood-wine and purple and blue spirit drinks, leaving them in a heady stupor, their senses numbed and turned up to a thousand all at once. In her embrace, Keats was too sober to quell his nerves, and his love looked frustrated, to say the least.
"Keats, I picked you because you had a deep, wise soul and the right words to make my heart tingle," Allara said, her face relatively unchanged since her eighteen years of age. She may have looked slightly younger, and she was definitely less powerful and in control, but her mere presence vibrated the world around it with her magic, the shadows reaching towards her wherever she went. She was like a beacon, all that power held within a young person such as her far too early in her life. Despite her gifts since her early childhood, and her immense ability since a young age, her expedited training made her more like an unstable nuclear reactor than a fully controlled source of energy.
And that was the exact reason why a voice had whispered in Keats's head, calling his name like a siren across the waves. He was put off and disturbed, trying to ignore it, but it kept calling and calling him, until he sighed and pulled away from her.
"You're right, yes, I know, they've never found us here, and they never will," he said, looking up at her irritated face. Even when her features were twisted into an expression that easily struck fear into any onlooker, he found her to be beautiful and intangible, as if someone so enchanting could not possibly be real.
"I just need to take a piss and clear my thoughts with some fresh air. Please wait here for me, I don't want you to see me do that. I will be back as soon as possible… you made it a bit difficult to do what needs to be done, so, apologies if I keep you waiting for some time." With that, he left the warm, fire-lit bedroom to the dark, slightly chilly hallway, sounds of giggles and laughter filling the corridor from the different rooms and the adjacent tavern, some doors softly emitting the songs of whores and their clients, doped up on so much mead and wine they could not tell just how bored she or he was. Despite the culture of 'lust is good, love is good, flesh is good, restraint is for the weak' that was commonly accepted in Athanatos, some men and women were simply not as good as others.
Keats finally found his way out the back door of the little inn area and stepped out into the grey early evening, pulling out a smokable paper rolled up into a little stick that contained some kind of purple herbs that only grew in the Athanatos kingdom. They provided calm and an ability to clear one's mind of psychic influences. A powerful wizard or sorceress could bypass such meager protection magic, but he was hoping it would stop the constant noise. As he exhaled a puff of blue smoke, he found a secluded enough spot against the back wall of the tavern and began trying to take a piss, when a soft female's voice caressed his ear from behind, causing him to jump nearly out of his skin.
"By Nagash!" Keats's trickle halted in its tracks as he turned around to face the source of the voice right by his ear, calling his name. Dropping his cigarette as he turned around, he saw no one there. He frowned, gazed down at the joint that was still smoking and stomped it out as it began to drizzle around him lightly, as it had been, on and off, all day. Whatever source of light provided Athanatos with day—was it even still really the sun or some other cosmic (or arcane) lamp?—was now fading away, leaving the world in a darker gloom than before. Keats tried to settle his nerves, but just as he was about to accept he was hallucinating on opioids, a figure appeared before him. His heart stopped.
Standing at the treeline separating the town from The Forest of Shades was a strange, malnourished, grey-skinned woman with dark hair so long it touched her knees. It was soft but somehow chaos itself, and it gave her entirely black eyes an even more ominous look. She was skin and bones, dressed in black lace and silk that covered her scarred arms, thick scars the colour of ink, but nothing worked to hide the three eyes on both of her cheeks. One on either of her mandibles, the others closer to her lips, and the last two right under her eye sockets. Each eye except for the ones in her eye sockets moved on its own accord, twisting and turning and glancing about like the paranoid optics of a monster guarding its lair. It was all the more twisted as her long nose ended into nothingness, horrendous exposed nasal apertures, and her lips were painted—or naturally?—black. However, as she smiled, sharp rows of teeth gleamed in the dim light of the town's torches and whatever light was left behind the storm clouds.
In a blink, the thin, terrifying figure was right before him, shadows overlapping her body from behind as she seemed to manifest out of gloom itself. She smiled in greeting, looking so innocuous and pleasant, and yet the most sinister look was clearly emblazoned into her two most humanoid eyes.
"Keatsie boy… ah, sweet boy~" she said, her voice coming out like the cackle of maniacs held in the subterranean cells of a haunted asylum, and yet it sounded as sweet as a melody played on white keys, drifting in from the other room alongside the warmth of a fireplace, where his love would play her tunes, her spine erect and her fingers agile. He hated the feeling of the creature's proximity, like laughter of sinners and the damned licking his bare skin, his arms, his face… he hated her presence, he hated everything about this moment, where it felt like all the light of the world had been stolen by her, nothing but her and him locked in this fateful moment of disaster and calamity.
"You will do as we tell you to," she said, the line carrying more weight than a castle lumped onto his back, "exactly as we tell you to do it."
"W… we?" he asked, and he instantly wished he hadn't. He was not even sure he really spoke, it felt as if he was completely frozen, nothing but frantic thoughts escaping into her receptive, eager, malicious mind. She gave him a toothless smile, lips sealed shut as she turned a sultry, demonic gaze at him, and he saw them. The first one held the skin of moss and dead grass, mushrooms of purple and brown growing out of her head. Her lips were painted black, just like her sister's, and she had the strangest antlers growing out of her skull, seemingly shaped out of bone, or the branches of a dying ash tree. Her eyes were infinite hollows that made him feel as if he was falling into a bottomless pit when he had the misfortune of looking at her.
The thing that caught his breath in his throat, however, was her.
She looked exactly like her.
The third woman, gazing at him from the treeline, was a living, breathing replica of the love of his life. Except perhaps older. Pink eyes and red hair that drew him in. For a moment, as the light shifted, he could have sworn he saw her bones—a black skeleton faintly revealed behind her skin, but when lightning struck above, it was gone once more. On her shoulder rested a raven with the skull of a basilisk and strange, octopus-like tentacles sprouted from its sides, right beneath its wings. It had the tail of a scorpion that darted about this way and that.
"Yes, my dearest Keats. We." The first damnable arrival giggled, like a knife against a sharpening stone, and he felt himself losing his footing. He thought he had started to drown.
Present Day, The Athanatos Kingdom, Evening of the Gala
The trio of horrific, powerful… demigods? Necromancers? No one was quite sure. They were revered as the most powerful beings on the mortal plane of the Athanatos kingdom, three wise sisters that no one dared cross, began the ritual of blood they had prepared to help Allara ascend to new levels of power and glory.
With their quarries stripped and shackled, their devoted followers formed a circle around the binding platform, where the shaking, naked man and woman were surrounded by candles, a bowl on either side of the raised marble, to collect the blood they were about to feed into the hungry receptacles, eager to fuel the unsuspecting Allara Koraki. The victims squirmed and screamed, their horror echoing against the grey walls and vaulted ceilings that soared high above them, even higher than the tower appeared on the outside. The crucified monster on one wall loomed above them, something straight out of a horror story, unidentifiable with its limbs torn and its dried blood coating the background of crow feathers, broken bones, human skulls…
On the other wall a tapestry made of human flesh, covered in obscene depictions of undeath, war, pestilence, starvation and pure horror completed the scene of occult rituals and macabre practices. At the head of the circle, right before the black marble platform that supported the altar dedicated to the Death God Morte and his Disciples, venerating Nagash, The Undying King, stood the three sisters, their arms raised in prayer as they sought out powers beyond the mortal realm. Slowly, from above, shadows began to descend on the party, snuffing out every black, crimson and violet candle that lit up the putrid atmosphere.
Out of the circle, on the opposite end of the sisters, stepped up a woman of short, playfully curly black hair, obsidian skin and bright purple eyes, her body short and relatively slim with a few natural curves, hidden by the oversized black cloak draped over her figure. From her belt she pulled out a curved dagger made out of a fang of a hydra—extracted while the beast was still alive—and stabbed it down right into the man's heart, followed by a deep stab into the woman's. The two screamed until they stilled before her.
As the shadows grew blindingly darker and murkier, newfound agonised screams began to echo against the cold circular chamber walls as the shadows transformed into horrid beings of spirit-vampirism and murder, shades that resembled a multi-armed humanoid with mouths for a face. Each one used its six claws to attack and devour a cult follower, an open feast provided by The Sisters to the God of Death.
A few moments later, silence descended upon the Crones and the one lone woman who initiated the ritual. Gazing upon each other in acknowledgement, they began to gather all the blood splattered across marble and wood in silence. As the life-giving fluid began to overflow in the large bowls placed on the sides of the ritual bed, the woman guided it towards the divination sphere, where the young redhead was walking with the Bellerose boy and smiling warmly, and with one swift motion, as the liquids began to glow a deep purple, the four women shot it directly at Allara's heart.
"Go now, Erzulie," the three sisters echoed in a murmur as the purple-eyed woman nodded in silence, turning around from them and towards the window, where she put her hands together in preparation to cast a spell…
At the edges of the Athanatos kingdom lay a large, foggy lake, its still surface like that of a silver looking-glass, unnerving in its immovability. The fluid always took on the look of quicksilver as the thick, heavy fog settled over the large, generally abandoned forests of The Silver Lake, colloquially known as The Misty Forest, owing to its unnatural grimness and heavy, relentless, never-ending mist. In the middle of the silver waters jutted out a little island covered in black dirt, devoid of everything but one large, perpetually leafless tree, seemingly dead in all but one form: it kept growing in size, as if it hungered to block out the horizon and overtake the whole world with its darkness, with its elongated, twisted branches, extending like the half broken fingers of a greedy witch. Along a path that rose from the edge of the island, just a few feet from the Melancholy Tree, were black roses that grew in large multitudes, making the black dirt even darker. The path climbed up the rocky island, something like obsidian in its appearance, up the little hill atop which resided a tall, stone-carved, medieval looking, strangely thin and twisty ancient circular tower. The tops were covered in something like thatch the colour of raven feathers, with little extensions that provided cover and protection in all directions, but it gave the roof an eldritch, monstrous look, as if a multi-limbed creature rested atop this menacing structure.
Along its tall, domineering walls were the odd window here and there, but the tower was structured very carefully and for a very specific purpose. Other than little alcoves along the walls that extended from the spiral staircase, it looked as if this whole place was made to house a thin spine of steps that took its travellers all the way to the top, some impressively and horrifyingly high altitudes without any railings, as if it challenged travellers to come and break their necks. Regardless, the group of three never left the top, which meant they never had to deal with such risks. It was their followers whom had to show courage as they ascended to receive their blessings. Today, however, there would be no blessings or curses bestowed upon any followers. Today the sisters collected their strange group to perform an entirely all too important endeavour.
The Three Sisters of the Athanatos Kingdom. Ah, they were creatures of legend, tales spun about them throughout all the kingdoms… if you went below ground enough, to areas deep and dark and full of hatred. Where desperation led the poor and the shamed, the name was whispered in hushed tones amongst the angry and afraid alike. The Three Sisters. The Three Witches. The Dark Crones. The Eldritch Triad. They came in many forms, as did their rumoured appearances. Skinny, bony, twisted, ugly, horrific, overweight, three heads attached to one body, beautiful temptresses, like goddesses from the grave…
But their truth was only known to them and a select few, as well as the protectors of the Koraki Crown. The true source of power for the king and queen of Athanatos. In their circle of 12 powerful sorcerers, they had started training Allara since a very young age, so she may complete their circle as their thirteenth. She would fulfil her destiny, her true purpose, and bring forth the era they were all promised. A world of darkness and power, where every single bastard who dared to humiliate the Korakis and banish them from all political and recreational interactions would rue the day they looked down their nose upon the family of necromancers. Did they not know better? What kind of fools anger dark sorcerers?
Regardless of reason or logic, darkness reigned supreme when hatred and rage stirred in the hearts of mortals. With such easy temptations available, Chrysalia and Cedrick did what was necessary. With their plot in motion, the wheels of power turning in their favour, the entire family put on a show of high society and elegance, the star pupil delivering in every perfect step she took, far away in the land of colour and light, as the sisters saw through their large, translucent orb, the shadows that usually filled it now scattered to the bottoms and to the sides to give them a direct view of her work. Keats made such a connection even easier, as a long time ago, he was taken to an alley…
8 years ago, Athanatos Kingdom, Near The Crescent City
Sickle Town, The Corn and Scarecrow Pub
"Won't your parents find out?" Keats asked in a huff, his tone fearful and excited all at once. Allara's dazzling pink gaze, full of dancing stars of madness and glee, snapped in his direction. The two were in a little room in the back rooms of the pub, an inn of some sort, and the young couple loved going there to destress and to spend their time in passionate embraces, fuelled by blood-wine and purple and blue spirit drinks, leaving them in a heady stupor, their senses numbed and turned up to a thousand all at once. In her embrace, Keats was too sober to quell his nerves, and his love looked frustrated, to say the least.
"Keats, I picked you because you had a deep, wise soul and the right words to make my heart tingle," Allara said, her face relatively unchanged since her eighteen years of age. She may have looked slightly younger, and she was definitely less powerful and in control, but her mere presence vibrated the world around it with her magic, the shadows reaching towards her wherever she went. She was like a beacon, all that power held within a young person such as her far too early in her life. Despite her gifts since her early childhood, and her immense ability since a young age, her expedited training made her more like an unstable nuclear reactor than a fully controlled source of energy.
And that was the exact reason why a voice had whispered in Keats's head, calling his name like a siren across the waves. He was put off and disturbed, trying to ignore it, but it kept calling and calling him, until he sighed and pulled away from her.
"You're right, yes, I know, they've never found us here, and they never will," he said, looking up at her irritated face. Even when her features were twisted into an expression that easily struck fear into any onlooker, he found her to be beautiful and intangible, as if someone so enchanting could not possibly be real.
"I just need to take a piss and clear my thoughts with some fresh air. Please wait here for me, I don't want you to see me do that. I will be back as soon as possible… you made it a bit difficult to do what needs to be done, so, apologies if I keep you waiting for some time." With that, he left the warm, fire-lit bedroom to the dark, slightly chilly hallway, sounds of giggles and laughter filling the corridor from the different rooms and the adjacent tavern, some doors softly emitting the songs of whores and their clients, doped up on so much mead and wine they could not tell just how bored she or he was. Despite the culture of 'lust is good, love is good, flesh is good, restraint is for the weak' that was commonly accepted in Athanatos, some men and women were simply not as good as others.
Keats finally found his way out the back door of the little inn area and stepped out into the grey early evening, pulling out a smokable paper rolled up into a little stick that contained some kind of purple herbs that only grew in the Athanatos kingdom. They provided calm and an ability to clear one's mind of psychic influences. A powerful wizard or sorceress could bypass such meager protection magic, but he was hoping it would stop the constant noise. As he exhaled a puff of blue smoke, he found a secluded enough spot against the back wall of the tavern and began trying to take a piss, when a soft female's voice caressed his ear from behind, causing him to jump nearly out of his skin.
"By Nagash!" Keats's trickle halted in its tracks as he turned around to face the source of the voice right by his ear, calling his name. Dropping his cigarette as he turned around, he saw no one there. He frowned, gazed down at the joint that was still smoking and stomped it out as it began to drizzle around him lightly, as it had been, on and off, all day. Whatever source of light provided Athanatos with day—was it even still really the sun or some other cosmic (or arcane) lamp?—was now fading away, leaving the world in a darker gloom than before. Keats tried to settle his nerves, but just as he was about to accept he was hallucinating on opioids, a figure appeared before him. His heart stopped.
Standing at the treeline separating the town from The Forest of Shades was a strange, malnourished, grey-skinned woman with dark hair so long it touched her knees. It was soft but somehow chaos itself, and it gave her entirely black eyes an even more ominous look. She was skin and bones, dressed in black lace and silk that covered her scarred arms, thick scars the colour of ink, but nothing worked to hide the three eyes on both of her cheeks. One on either of her mandibles, the others closer to her lips, and the last two right under her eye sockets. Each eye except for the ones in her eye sockets moved on its own accord, twisting and turning and glancing about like the paranoid optics of a monster guarding its lair. It was all the more twisted as her long nose ended into nothingness, horrendous exposed nasal apertures, and her lips were painted—or naturally?—black. However, as she smiled, sharp rows of teeth gleamed in the dim light of the town's torches and whatever light was left behind the storm clouds.
In a blink, the thin, terrifying figure was right before him, shadows overlapping her body from behind as she seemed to manifest out of gloom itself. She smiled in greeting, looking so innocuous and pleasant, and yet the most sinister look was clearly emblazoned into her two most humanoid eyes.
"Keatsie boy… ah, sweet boy~" she said, her voice coming out like the cackle of maniacs held in the subterranean cells of a haunted asylum, and yet it sounded as sweet as a melody played on white keys, drifting in from the other room alongside the warmth of a fireplace, where his love would play her tunes, her spine erect and her fingers agile. He hated the feeling of the creature's proximity, like laughter of sinners and the damned licking his bare skin, his arms, his face… he hated her presence, he hated everything about this moment, where it felt like all the light of the world had been stolen by her, nothing but her and him locked in this fateful moment of disaster and calamity.
"You will do as we tell you to," she said, the line carrying more weight than a castle lumped onto his back, "exactly as we tell you to do it."
"W… we?" he asked, and he instantly wished he hadn't. He was not even sure he really spoke, it felt as if he was completely frozen, nothing but frantic thoughts escaping into her receptive, eager, malicious mind. She gave him a toothless smile, lips sealed shut as she turned a sultry, demonic gaze at him, and he saw them. The first one held the skin of moss and dead grass, mushrooms of purple and brown growing out of her head. Her lips were painted black, just like her sister's, and she had the strangest antlers growing out of her skull, seemingly shaped out of bone, or the branches of a dying ash tree. Her eyes were infinite hollows that made him feel as if he was falling into a bottomless pit when he had the misfortune of looking at her.
The thing that caught his breath in his throat, however, was her.
She looked exactly like her.
The third woman, gazing at him from the treeline, was a living, breathing replica of the love of his life. Except perhaps older. Pink eyes and red hair that drew him in. For a moment, as the light shifted, he could have sworn he saw her bones—a black skeleton faintly revealed behind her skin, but when lightning struck above, it was gone once more. On her shoulder rested a raven with the skull of a basilisk and strange, octopus-like tentacles sprouted from its sides, right beneath its wings. It had the tail of a scorpion that darted about this way and that.
"Yes, my dearest Keats. We." The first damnable arrival giggled, like a knife against a sharpening stone, and he felt himself losing his footing. He thought he had started to drown.
Present Day, The Athanatos Kingdom, Evening of the Gala
The trio of horrific, powerful… demigods? Necromancers? No one was quite sure. They were revered as the most powerful beings on the mortal plane of the Athanatos kingdom, three wise sisters that no one dared cross, began the ritual of blood they had prepared to help Allara ascend to new levels of power and glory.
With their quarries stripped and shackled, their devoted followers formed a circle around the binding platform, where the shaking, naked man and woman were surrounded by candles, a bowl on either side of the raised marble, to collect the blood they were about to feed into the hungry receptacles, eager to fuel the unsuspecting Allara Koraki. The victims squirmed and screamed, their horror echoing against the grey walls and vaulted ceilings that soared high above them, even higher than the tower appeared on the outside. The crucified monster on one wall loomed above them, something straight out of a horror story, unidentifiable with its limbs torn and its dried blood coating the background of crow feathers, broken bones, human skulls…
On the other wall a tapestry made of human flesh, covered in obscene depictions of undeath, war, pestilence, starvation and pure horror completed the scene of occult rituals and macabre practices. At the head of the circle, right before the black marble platform that supported the altar dedicated to the Death God Morte and his Disciples, venerating Nagash, The Undying King, stood the three sisters, their arms raised in prayer as they sought out powers beyond the mortal realm. Slowly, from above, shadows began to descend on the party, snuffing out every black, crimson and violet candle that lit up the putrid atmosphere.
Out of the circle, on the opposite end of the sisters, stepped up a woman of short, playfully curly black hair, obsidian skin and bright purple eyes, her body short and relatively slim with a few natural curves, hidden by the oversized black cloak draped over her figure. From her belt she pulled out a curved dagger made out of a fang of a hydra—extracted while the beast was still alive—and stabbed it down right into the man's heart, followed by a deep stab into the woman's. The two screamed until they stilled before her.
As the shadows grew blindingly darker and murkier, newfound agonised screams began to echo against the cold circular chamber walls as the shadows transformed into horrid beings of spirit-vampirism and murder, shades that resembled a multi-armed humanoid with mouths for a face. Each one used its six claws to attack and devour a cult follower, an open feast provided by The Sisters to the God of Death.
A few moments later, silence descended upon the Crones and the one lone woman who initiated the ritual. Gazing upon each other in acknowledgement, they began to gather all the blood splattered across marble and wood in silence. As the life-giving fluid began to overflow in the large bowls placed on the sides of the ritual bed, the woman guided it towards the divination sphere, where the young redhead was walking with the Bellerose boy and smiling warmly, and with one swift motion, as the liquids began to glow a deep purple, the four women shot it directly at Allara's heart.
"Go now, Erzulie," the three sisters echoed in a murmur as the purple-eyed woman nodded in silence, turning around from them and towards the window, where she put her hands together in preparation to cast a spell…
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