Curses

Curses are created by the gods as a form of punishment for the crime of an individual years and years ago or a ‘gift’ depending on how it is viewed. The gods that were wronged placed a curse upon the world based on the severity of the crime. Other times it is in response to prayers of an individual, or the Gods growing bored of the world and deciding to mess with the species. These curses vary from one another on how they are able to spread. Some are by bite while others are by inheritance, or another means. These curses remain as a warning to any who dare to defy the gods or wishes for a God to intervene in their lives. Those who assist these cursed beings are thought to suffer alongside these wrongdoers.

Curses can be passed on from a number of ways, each differing from the next. One of the common patterns is an inheritance pattern: an offspring of a cursed being will have a high chance of possessing the curse, while the mate will not. It is the ultimate punishment to the parent who must watch their child suffer and turn against them in the gods’ thirst for vengeance upon those who dare love the creatures that have wronged them. Another is a God can place the curse on all rather than a specific individual. These curses can be healed, but only by the most skilled and powerful angels. Failed attempts mean the loss of life for both the healer and the cursed, yet successful attempts are rare, thus making healers reluctant to help these cursed individuals. An example of an odd curse created is the chimera as it can appear at random in any hybrid no matter how small the percentage, but it is not guaranteed.

Curses cannot be mixed. A pairing between a vampire and a werewolf is impossible; the child will be born twisted and deformed and will die within a day. Similarly, no individual can have more than one of these curses; a chimera bitten by a vampire will die a painful death, and vice versa. Not only this, but any creature healed by an angel must take care never to be bitten again, for no matter the cursed being, the healed creature will die just as painful a death as the combination of curses.

The first banshee was created when a woman lost her child in childbirth. Unable to cope with her loss, she wailed for hours. The hours became days, days became weeks. Eventually her cries reached Norak, god of death and peace. To silence her keening, Norak granted her a great gift: to see the looming shadow of imminent death over others.

This gift came at a great cost. The woman became entranced whenever she saw the shadow of death. As if by magic her skin grew white, along with her hair, and she was dressed in a beautiful flowing white gown. And then, she would wail. Seen as a harbinger of death, she and her family were driven away. Worse still, her gift transferred down to her daughters, and her daughters’ daughters. They became known as Pale Ladies. Death Singers. Banshees.

The banshee curse carries down from mother to daughter, and now affects all species. They are compelled to wander, to warn others of looming death. When a banshee wails, death is imminent. When a group of them comes together to wail, it signals the death of someone of great importance. Beautiful and ethereal, banshee screams are often believed to be deadly. None have lived to tell otherwise.

The first chimera was born when the daughter of a high born family disgraced not only herself, but her family, city, and the Gods. The daughter was promised to be wed to the god, Plythio, as a priestess of the high temple. As part of the ceremony, the girl must never have been with another. The night before the ceremony, the girl had slipped out to be alone. Having been a shapeshifter, she shifted to her lion form and went to go meet up with a longtime friend. Upon meeting, the girl explained her reasons for leaving and her distress for her impending ‘marriage.’ After a long night of comforting, the girl had decided to go back on her promise and spent the night in her friend's bed.

The day of her wedding, the god received word about her behavior the previous night. Enraged, Plythio cursed the woman to bear the children of the pairing and all others who slept together the previous night no matter their species as punishment for her disgrace of him. When the pregnancies came to term, the children bore characteristics of both parents rather than one or the other that were different than the usual child; including hybrid children. The children were deformed in nature as they shared became a true blending of their parents no matter the species difference. Pairs such as a kitsune and a dragon created foxes with wings or the ability to breathe fire, and an elf and a lion had children with a human form, but a tail and a lion face or a lion body with human hair. These oddities of half of each parent became known as chimeras.

The curse evolved to become a genetic mutation that can occur from hybrids and their following generations. A pairing with multiple children could have the entire bunch normal, but one child could be a chimera. The gene is found only in hybrids no matter how small the percentage. Chimeras cannot shapeshift or take primarily after one parent. They must have features of both species shared equally.

The original mimics were a group of nomadic entertainers that wandered from city to city. While in a town dedicated to the god Tharamos, they boasted that they were the best illusionists in the world. While this was arguably true, some of them took it further and argued that they were better than the gods themselves. Tharamos, hearing this insult in a town that was his, cursed them. If they wanted to boast about their trickery, then they would be nothing but a trick. Who they were was lost forever, and their forms were unbound from reality, shaped only by the thoughts of the individuals. Many of them scattered following the curse, and more than one line vanished from existence, the descendents appearing every few generations or so. With no organization, and no real gatherings, the Mimics became an entirely nomadic species, bound only to themselves or the species they prefered.

Those cursed by this come in three different degrees of the the curse. The first type are only able to imitate physical forms. The second type are able to imitate the physical form as well as some of their target’s powers. The last and final type is the most dangerous as they are able to completely imitate the form, abilities, and memories of another, although it requires physical contact to start and carries the risk of the user forgetting what and who they really are. This is a very rare skill that only the most advanced/eldest mimics typically know.

The origin story of the reapers were never clear. By the time anyone knew what was happening, it was far too late. The first reapers were the most unstable. Some didn’t last long due to the instability of what they were. A creature meant to be dead, but defy death itself and become its warrior. It was a soldier made by Lord Razor when he first took the throne of Death.

These creatures at first were slaves. Things he had caught in war, prisoners, or even innocent demons of his own kingdom. This went on for years. The victims lost everything. Their body, sanity, and some even lost their souls when it went wrong. Finally he perfected his craft and made an army that wasn’t dead nor alive. It was much worst. It was what no one could give a better term to but a reaper, a bringer of death itself.

Most of the creatures that are found roaming were taken as children and turned. The younger the better. Their bodies no longer needed, these creatures, if that be dared used, are just the souls given physical forms by consuming either magic or the souls of others. They live, by taking life from others. The way someone knows for sure it is indeed a reaper is that every last one of them holds an item. Something to keep them tied to their master. The master of the Death kingdom. However, sometimes… life has a way of breaking out of its shackles as life cannot be contained.

One of the only things known for sure is that these creatures of darkness seem to be shy away from the light.

The vampires were first created when a human desecrated a temple dedicated to Jiasna, the goddess of order and chaos. The temple had been meticulously set up, designed to be the perfect balance between the two opposing forces, and when the human managed to demolish the temple in a drunken stupor, Jiasna awoke to bring chaos down upon the offender.

She gave the human fangs and blood-red eyes, and skin paler than the glow of the moon, and a thirst that could only be sated with blood and nothing else. Though the human grew sober to apologize, there was no mercy in the goddess's mind, and the vampire was sent back to wreak terror upon its city.

Its bites were either fatal or contagious, but the vampire could not control when such things happened, so that a sip of blood may kill a beloved, while nearly draining a murderer might pass on the curse-- so the curse spread, first from humans to humans, then to the other creatures of Antarsia, until all species were affected with the thirst for blood that Jiasna had given this first offender.

Upon receiving the spell, vampires of any sort will turn many shades lighter in color and grow sharpened fangs, as well as blood-red eyes. They must have blood every fortnight or they will starve and go mad, wreaking havoc upon villages until their thirsts have been sated.

Because they are so shunned, Vampires tend to avoid others and live solitary lives, only appearing at night to feed and quench goddess’s anger.

Its origins are said to be from breaching the ultimate taboo among sentient races: cannibalism. Jiasna, Goddess of Order and Chaos, had seen the act. Enraged by the disgust of these creatures committing this taboo, the wendigo curse was born.

Though it is unknown which race first broke the taboo and ushered in the Wendigo curse, the traits are shared among all races. Those afflicted have long, gaunt figures, making them appear like twisted versions of their brethren. From a distance, they can appear as their original race, but the closer you get, the more monstrous they become. With pointed, gnashing teeth, long claws, and bloodshot eyes, they have a hunger for the flesh of their own kind.

The start of the Wendigo’s curse is slow. The afflicted begins craving the flesh of their own kind. The more they consume, the more monstrous they become.

To kill a Wendigo, fire must be used. Their skin is tough, and fire is said to be the only thing that can purify their curse. With the body burned, the spirit of the Wendigo is freed, and must then be captured in a jar and purified by a priest, or the spirit will go on to possess another cannibal.

The first were beast originated when several wolves unearthed a beautiful gem from their den. Offered as a sacrifice to Cysnial, the goddess of charity, it was stolen by a greedy human. Cysnial, in the grip of her corruption, sent a wolf to demand the gem’s return, as her greed demanded the gem be hers. The human skinned the wolf in response, and crafted the pelt into a cloak. Enraged at the theft of both a wolf and the gem, Cysnial cursed the man. The cloak was bound to his skin, and when the moon rose into the sky, he became a wolf, lost to the wrath of Cysnial’s greed. Though he tried to return the gem to her, the goddess would not be swayed, and his curse was set to spread as punishment to those who harbored him. In the madness of the wolf, he would spread the curse to those he bit, and she decided that was a fitting fate. This is often known as the original source of the werewolf legend.

Since then, the werewolf had evolved. The curse has long since spread from humans to all other species, and the amount an individual is affected by or can control the curse can vary widely. The werewolf soon became known as werebeasts based on the species that it started to effect. Some werebeasts are confined to their cursed animal forms when the moon rises. Others are capable of controlling the transformations perfectly, shifting at will. Some have even developed a Warg-like form, between their cursed animal form and that of their original species. One thing is certain: All werebeasts are stronger on the full moon, when the goddess’ curse is most powerful.

No matter the level of control one might have on their curse, one thing is inevitable: the werebeast must become the cursed animal at least twice a month-- once during the full moon when the animals are the strongest, and once during the new moon, when the sky is black and the werebeasts become absolutely unable to control their cursed selves. On these two nights, all werebeasts are forced to remain in their cursed animal form, to cry their apologies to Cysnial and hunt those that yet offend the goddess.

Wildbloods are creatures who are inherently tied to the natural world; while they have an instinctive, incredibly powerful grasp of the four core magical elements stemming from their bond with the natural world (and resulting knowledge thereof), all other forms of magic are all but impossible for them to attain. Most feel particularly drawn to one element above the others, but some prefer not to specialize more than they already must.

When a wildblood has a child with a non-wildblood, there's a 50/50 chance that the child may not carry the curse, depending on the whims of the gods.

If a wildblood and another cursed being have a child the wildblood curse will always lose out to the other curse, for example a vampire and a wildblood will produce vampiric offspring.

The story of the first Wildblood is a sorded affair: Once, many ages ago, a human woman named Elesia made a pilgrimage to the shrines of her species’s patron deities. At the Shrine of Jackroth, she begged to be made closer to his sacred element of fire; when no change was made after several days of fasting, offerings, and prayer, she left for the Shrine of Jiasna. Several months passed before she finally stumbled into the shrine itself; once there, she fell to trembling knees and asked hoarsely for her goddess to change her, to make her closer to the blood of the world however she deemed fit.

Jiasna had heard from Jackroth about the woman who had come to his shrine. After a few hours of working out the details, the pair reached out and touched Elesia’s Vikta.

The touch changed Elesia. She screamed; the air trembled in response. The soft muscles of her throat tore, and her blood poured into her lungs; the blood was cool, soothing water. She lurched to her feet; the earth rose to meet her. She ran shaking fingers through thin, tangled hair; the hair burst into flame that did not sear her.

Elesia closed her eyes and thanked her gods for granting her prayers, not daring to speak in case the world reacted to it harmfully. When she finally stepped from the shrine, she was stunned as her senses opened to the motion of air as creatures passed through it, the tremors the ground-bound ones caused with each step, the current in the stream winding through her goddess’s shrine. Each wobbling step was a revelation; when her eyes closed again, she found they never again needed to open. She could already see clear as day.

She had a daughter by a dwarf; the child inherited most, but not all, of her mother’s attunement. This daughter had a son by a Kelahati; again, the child inherited a portion of this bond with the world. And so it went down the line, diluting gradually but spreading until it evened out. Those so attuned to the world around them were dubbed the Wildblooded - not fully people, not even close to beasts. Slowly, they retreated from others, content to live near to the wilds they had such an affinity for, where they had no trouble explaining themselves because they understood among one another that they simply did things differently. Even today, it isn’t uncommon to run into one in the wilder areas of any continent. Occasionally, one will venture back towards the rest of the sentient world - but the Children of Elesia always have and always will feel most at home among the elements.

The Undead are not corpses brought back to life. Their name comes from misunderstandings of what they are as a whole: beings who have survived a mysterious plague, and are left disfigured as a result. It is assumed that the gods were displeased with their creations and sought a way to start with a ‘clean slate.’

The plague came out of nowhere, sweeping across Sleibte and wiping out village after village. The dead piled up, and those unaffected by the disease were made to flee, leaving mass graves behind. While many do die in the plague, those that don’t are left in varying states of decay. Some have flesh falling off, some have skeletal limbs, while others look pallid and waxy, like a preserved corpse. When they rise from their presumed state of death, the plague stops eating away at their flesh.

The Undead are very much alive, however dead they appear. The plague often robs them of their memories, and depending on the state of their decay it may affect their movement. Many keep themselves fully covered head to toe in cloaks, in hopes of rejoining society. Others life a solitary life, fearful of spreading the plague further. They do not feel hunger or thirst, and many no longer register pain.