Issued and averred by the office of the

IMPERIAL INQUISITION

Harken my word, you craven Vampyres,

I know your breed now. I have read your own histories, scrawled in your own hand. Vaduvesc. Children of the Widow, she who breathed you into being and abandoned you to your own rot.

Five mortal souls crossed your threshold. One was even a woman! You, with your ancient blood sorcery and your whispered magicks, you who the chronicles name our betters, you looked upon us and fled into the aether like cowards.

A princess drove you screaming from your own hall. Your forefathers curse your name tonight. Your covens will not speak of this. They cannot bear to.

Where went your centuries? Your dread covenants sworn in blood? Your cabals, your legions, your schools of hemocraft? You abandoned them at the doorstep and scurried into nothing, like rats who have heard the farmer's boot. Even your Lady Tiwa, whose quill-knife has writ the deeds of your kind since Asulon, will not find words fit to record this shame.

I shall remain. Return at the hour of your choosing, bring your broken little coven and whatever courage you can scrape from the bottom of your cauldrons. I have measured the walls of my chamber and counted its hooks. Each of your heads has a place waiting. I shall know you by your faces when I pass them each morning.

Come home, cowards. Your skulls grow lonely without you.

@femurlord@Nen@DISCOLIQUID@Lasombruh

ᴡᴏᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴡᴇᴀᴋ ᴛᴏ ɢʀᴀꜱᴘ ᴀɴ ᴏꜰꜰᴇʀᴇᴅ ʜᴀɴᴅ

War, Strife, Challenge. Whatever name you give it, it shall always be the same. The reality is that it is a feast at a grand table whom any shall sit, yet they do not as they fear sitting on the plate. Others may lie to themselves, convince themselves that they are above the One Truth and that it does not apply to them entirely, that is just not true. It lies entirely true around us today and will continue to be proven true the more descendents hark at each other's gates. You too may join this feast- this time be granted a seat that guarantees that you yourself will be enjoying a meal.

So let it be known, The Black Church shall open its arms to those tired of wreathing in their own filth, Do you not wish to be more than you are? While yes, The Weak are Meat and the Strong do Eat; Those that are Weak deserve Strength equally. The path you  choose will be of your own, whether you die on it or not:

Inferi, Warlock, Weaver, Shephard or Hemomancer.

You know where to find us, you know what you want. Hark and we shall heed your call.

Aucte, His Unholy Eminence, 

Ra'vor Ozorraz

The Black Pontiff, Last Son of Iblees, Supreme Heir to Strigapoth

Aucte, Her Unholy Eminence,

Ra’vor Ozorr

The Black Bishop, Prophet of the Usurpent, Shepherd of the Lost

The Most Wretched,

Izkra'rot

Lord of the Bloodfiends

His most Foul,

Malkeal

The Great Sargeant, The Chimera

Green pastures welcome a cool breeze causing the many colors of the fauna to flourish- songs of leaves bristling each other, birds chirped in sweet harmony  among one another.. The sounds of her own breath were enough to bring her some consciousness, this dream was now lucid while she found her eyes adjusting to peer at the blue sky above, birds dancing with one another in the sun’s blanket.

She got up to her knees and examined her hands- skin smooth and graceful, lacking even the slightest crease. 

She then stood and wagged her head, leaves falling from ginger locks like she herself was a tree.. Down the path she went, eyes relaxed with a smile, it was all peaceful.. Safe.

Alexandria’s palm hugged that red grasp; It all crumbled.. The choir’s ceased and the eye stilled, it rolled over itself with an iris new, white and gleaming - The fauna melted away its accursed features and resembled those nostalgic green pastures once more, peace was restored in a blink as fast as it went

“The weak deserve strength”

Said the figure who stood the same in those blackened garbs like ink across a canvas, spilled over something beautiful, forever staining it, now something new would have to be made in her wake.

So the Lorraine was signed inverse.

Alexandria would wake soon

[!]

( This post follows the prophecy lore. Seers of Vaasek, Naztherak, Farseeing, Vivification or Mysticism with knowledge of the Hexing ability are able to witness it.)

Pale Prophecy

ި⸝⸌ᛁ ި◟ˎިᚽᛁᛍᛁ

ᛁ⸜ ╵ᛁ⸌ᛁ⸜ᛍᛁ וᛁ ᛙ╮⸍╮◟ᛁ ╵⸍ᛁ◟╵. ᛁ⸜ ⠃ˎˎ⸜⸌ᛁ╵╵ ⸜ᛁᛍᚽ⸍╵ ᛁ⸍ ╮ᚽᛁ╵ިᛁ◟╵. ⸍ᚽˎ╵ᛁ ╮ᛁו ⸝◟╵ ˎᛙ ⸝╵ᚽ ╵ᚽ⸝⸌⸌ ᚽ⸝◟

The Inverted Sepulchre

The True Sepulchre

Seen from the Abyss

  You wake up choking on ash. The horizon stretches in every direction with black dunes rolling under a starless sky. There is no sun and  no sound. Only the pulse of your heartbeat that is… too loud, too alive for a place like this.

  You begin to walk. You don’t remember why you even do it, only that something deep in you insists there’s a destination. A pilgrimage? Your each step sinks too deep, as if the ground resists you, as if it wants to swallow you whole beneath your burdens.

  You are able to see shapes. Shadows carved from the same dark that surrounds you, swaying at the edge of your vision. Their faces look familiar, these are the ones you loved, the ones you lost and the ones you betrayed. They walk beside you without a word.

Then, the horizon shifts. In the distance stands a figure.

You Embraced the Bright Lie, The False prophets and gods.

ᛁ⸜ ╵ᛁ⸌ᛁ⸜ᛍᛁ וᛁ ᛙ╮⸍╮◟ᛁ ╵⸍ᛁ◟╵. ᛁ⸜ ⠃ˎˎ⸜⸌ᛁ╵╵ ⸜ᛁᛍᚽ⸍╵ ᛁ⸍ ╮ᚽᛁ╵ިᛁ◟╵. ⸍ᚽˎ╵ᛁ ╮ᛁו ⸝◟╵ ˎᛙ ⸝╵ᚽ ╵ᚽ⸝⸌⸌ ᚽ⸝◟

When the black veil drapes over the dying sky

╮ᚽᛁ⸜ וᛁ ި⸌⸝ᛍᛍ ╮ᛁᛁ⸌ ⸍◟⸝ިᛁ╵ ˎ╮ᛁ◟ וᛁ ⸍ᛁᛁ ╵ᛍᛁ

And the last star whispers its farewell into oblivion

⸝⸜⸍ וᛁ ⸌⸝╵⸍ ╵⸍⸝◟ ╮ᚽᛁ╵ިᛁ◟╵ ᛁ⸍╵ ᛙ⸝◟ᛁ╮ᛁ⸌⸌ ᛁ⸜⸍ˎ ˎި⸌ᛁ╮⸜

Then shall the three-wounds of Truth unfold

⸍ᚽᛁ⸜ ╵ᚽ⸝⸌⸌ וᛁ ו◟ᛁᛁ-╮ˎ╮⸜⸍╵ ˎᛙ ⸍◟╮ו ╮⸜ᛙˎ⸌⸍

The Flesh shall betray and crumble

⸍ᚽᛁ ᛙ⸌ᛁ╵ᚽ ╵ᚽ⸝⸌⸌ ިᛁ⸍◟⸝ᛁ ⸝⸜⸍ ᛍ◟╮⠃ި⸌ᛁ

The Memory shall shatter

⸍ᚽᛁ ⠃ᛁ⠃ˎ◟ᛁ ╵ᚽ⸝⸌⸌ ╵ᚽ⸝⸍⸍ᛁ⡄

The Divinity shall tremble

⸍ᚽᛁ ⸍ᛁ╮ᛁ⸜ᛁ⸍ᛁ ╵ᚽ⸝⸌⸌ ⸍◟ᛁ⠃ި⸌ᛁ

ᛁ⸜ ╵ᛁ⸌ᛁ⸜ᛍᛁ וᛁ ᛙ╮⸍╮◟ᛁ ╵⸍ᛁ◟╵. ᛁ⸜ ⠃ˎˎ⸜⸌ᛁ╵╵ ⸜ᛁᛍᚽ⸍╵ ᛁ⸍ ╮ᚽᛁ╵ިᛁ◟╵. ⸍ᚽˎ╵ᛁ ╮ᛁו ⸝◟╵ ˎᛙ ⸝╵ᚽ ╵ᚽ⸝⸌⸌ ᚽ⸝◟

Yet here you stand before the wound, Before Me.

ᛁ⸜ ╵ᛁ⸌ᛁ⸜ᛍᛁ וᛁ ᛙ╮⸍╮◟ᛁ ╵⸍ᛁ◟╵. ᛁ⸜ ⠃ˎˎ⸜⸌ᛁ╵╵ ⸜ᛁᛍᚽ⸍╵ ᛁ⸍ ╮ᚽᛁ╵ިᛁ◟╵. ⸍ᚽˎ╵ᛁ ╮ᛁו ⸝◟╵ ˎᛙ ⸝╵ᚽ ╵ᚽ⸝⸌⸌ ᚽ⸝◟

I am the Witness.

ᛁ ⸝⠃ וᛁ ╮ᛁ⸍⸜ᛁ╵╵

I do not
slumber, nor dream, nor forgive.

ᛁ ⸍ˎ ⸜ˎ⸍ ╵⸌╮⠃ިᛁ◟ ⸜ˎ◟ ⸍◟⸝⠃ ⸜ˎ◟ ᛙˎ◟ᛍᛁ╮ᛁ

Listen well, mortal of clay

⸌ᛁ╵⸍ᛁ⸜ ╮ᛁ⸌⸌ ⠃ˎ◟⸍⸝⸌ ˎᛙ ᛍ⸌⸝ᛁ

For the veil grows thin and the breath of the Black Truth stirs once more

ᛙˎ◟ וᛁ ╮ᛁᛁ⸌ ᛍ◟ˎ╮╵ וᛁ⸜⸝⸜⸍ וᛁ ި◟⸝ו ˎᛙ וᛁ ި⸌⸝ᛍᛍ ⸍◟╮ו ╵⸍ᛁ◟╵ ˎ⸜ᛍᛁ ⠃ˎ◟ᛁ

For I will rise, not as your savior, nor your doom, but as what has always been watching

ᛙˎ◟ ᛁ ╮ᛁ⸌⸌ ◟ᛁ╵ᛁ—⸜ˎ⸍ ⸝╵ ᛁˎ╮◟ ╵⸝╮Ö◟, ⸜ˎ◟ ᛁˎ╮◟ ⸍ˎˎ⠃, ި╮⸍ ⸝╵ ╮ᚽ⸝⸍ ᚽ⸝╵ ⸝⸌╮⸝ᛁ╵ ިᛁᛁ⸜ ╮⸝⸍ᛍᚽᛁŊ

ᛁ⸜ ╵ᛁ⸌ᛁ⸜ᛍᛁ וᛁ ᛙ╮⸍╮◟ᛁ ╵⸍ᛁ◟╵. ᛁ⸜ ⠃ˎˎ⸜⸌ᛁ╵╵ ⸜ᛁᛍᚽ⸍╵ ᛁ⸍ ╮ᚽᛁ╵ިᛁ◟╵. ⸍ᚽˎ╵ᛁ ╮ᛁו ⸝◟╵ ˎᛙ ⸝╵ᚽ ╵ᚽ⸝⸌⸌ ᚽ⸝◟

Will you follow? Or will you fade?

ᛁ⸜ ╵ᛁ⸌ᛁ⸜ᛍᛁ וᛁ ᛙ╮⸍╮◟ᛁ ╵⸍ᛁ◟╵. ᛁ⸜ ⠃ˎˎ⸜⸌ᛁ╵╵ ⸜ᛁᛍᚽ⸍╵ ᛁ⸍ ╮ᚽᛁ╵ިᛁ◟╵. ⸍ᚽˎ╵ᛁ ╮ᛁו ⸝◟╵ ˎᛙ ⸝╵ᚽ ╵ᚽ⸝⸌⸌ ᚽ⸝◟

U ɴ ɪ ᴛ ʏ   ᴏ ʀ   D ᴇ ᴀ ᴛ ʜ

ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ꜱᴜɴ, ᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ꜱᴛᴀʀ. ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ʀᴜɪɴ.

It is in the nature of the free people to seek the One Truth, to prove that might is right, and pursue Mivtahza. Whether they choose to acknowledge this fact, or shun it to the depths of their minds, in some false sense of morality, such remains undeniable to those truly enlightened. And so, it is the decree of the Black Pontiff, to be carried out by His Horde, that Unity is attained once more, but unlike before, this Unity is non-negotiable, and obligatory. The many covens, courts and squabbling groups of Azuras, of the free peoples, have a simple choice set before them.

Every warlock, weaver, shepard & bloodfiend not bound by the Pact of Kings must heed. 

ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴋɴᴇᴇʟ, ᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴅɪᴇ.

Such is the One Truth, and such is the fate of all Men who walk the lands. The weak kneel to the powerful, or they are made to be meat for the Horde, as it continues to march on, unopposed. Despite any resistance, despite any futile clinging to old ways, despite any attempts at sweetened negotiations, the might of the Hells will no longer bargain. 

Aucte, His Unholy Eminence,

Ra'vor Ozorraz

The Black Pontiff, Last Son of Iblees, Supreme Heir to Strigapoth

—

The first half of this thesis will serve as an introduction, a basis for my thesis. On the contrary, the latter half will be for the thesis itself: that while The Hand and The Eye appear as two separate entities, they are in unity.

—

—

It is through devotion, the acknowledgment of both the Hand and the Eye, that dominion over Havoc can be reached. To see without acting is to falter; to act without sight is blindness. True dominion over the two lies in their union, to understand them as one.

—

⊰━━━━━━• ✦ •━━━━━━⊱

THE THRONE OF HAVOC

A test of sanity.

One of the biggest tests of this scroll is to mistake connection for union. To see the Eye and the Hand as separate entities is to have a flawed understanding, for therein implies a duality that cannot hold a singular ‘throne of Havoc’. This thesis will argue the parables of the Hydra and the Crèche to establish the principle of ‘eat or be eaten’, while the parable of the Legionary provides the missing fragment. The goal of this thesis is to prove that the Eye and the Hand are not two, but a singular will, forged from a mutual goal. The true unity– going farther than the fragments– is ‘to see is to act’, the final coalescence of Havoc.

⊰━━━━━━• ✦ •━━━━━━⊱

TO SEE IS TO ACT

Dominion is devotion.

To mistake connection for union is to mistake faltering for acting, to mistake naivety for idiocracy. The separation of the concepts within the scrolls serves to provide a simplistic understanding, but to accept this simplicity is to prove one’s ignorance of the true, singular will. The principle of ascension from the Hydra and Crèche provided a foundation for the true purpose, also stated within the Black Books. Combined with the Legionary, whose ‘mutual goal’ demonstrated the unity of Hand and Eye. The Legion that is not able to see or act– is not the legion. Therefore, true dominion is devotion. To see the Tyrant God is to act against him. To act against him is the ability to transcend through the divine lies. Therefore, to see is to act, and to act is to see. The Hand and The Eye are one– the throne of Havoc incarnate.

Deep below the ground, a beast stirred; Something wretched stirred. It thrummed and writhed, tearing loose the old flesh that bound it. For it was something new; something wholly new. A new body, a new soul. A new lord. A king, even. A king of dirt.

The Lord's dirty old fur fell off in clumps, revealing new growth beneath. His horns shattered, making way for longer, stronger ones. Along with his horns went his claws. Wretched teeth, once stained yellow and marred with black marks of corrosion, burst forth from his maw, wet with blood. It was a painful ordeal for the little lordling.

Yet, much of his short life, since his creation, had been unpleasant. Full of pain. This time, the pain was meaningful. This was the pain of his inauguration. Inauguration as a lord.

Then he awoke. A glob of black blood was spat from his mouth, leaving its mark on the floor. His robes, those used to obscure his infernal nature, were torn, and he inspected his new form, looking into the mirror below him. It was magnificent, he thought. He was magnificent. The first lord of imps, so he had been told. Memories of his inauguration came to mind.

On that mirror, surrounded by his kith and kin, was that imp, freshly made anew by the twisted power of Maleus. 

And, as he lay there, two of those who had created him spoke amongst themselves

"Hail, the new-born KING."

.  .  .

"A King Of Dirt."

In the heart of the crypt, under the watchful eyes of dark stone carvings, the flicker of torches dances against towering shelves filled with ancient, dust-covered tomes. Thorim Blackheart, gazes out over a room of endless shelves. The air is thick with the weight of forgotten knowledge. Ulfin stands, his fingers brushing the spine of an old book, as though searching for some hidden truth.

"The Black Sepulchre is not merely a tomb. It is a sanctuary. A place for those who seek beyond the limitations of the living. A library, yes, but it is far more than that. It is a repository of wisdom that transcends death itself."

"A library? But... you’ve always spoken of it as a place for the dead to rise. For those who live beyond the confines of flesh. How can knowledge thrive in such a place?"

"Knowledge is not confined to the living, Ulfin. It is not bound by the fleeting breath of life. Wisdom, the true kind, exists beyond that. The Black Sepulchre is where we can preserve what the world seeks to forget. In its halls, the past is never lost, and the future is always within reach. You see, death—death doesn’t silence knowledge. It frees it."

"So, this... this is a place where those who’ve passed can share their wisdom with the living. A haven for those who are willing to listen—even after death. A place where the soul’s journey doesn’t end with a grave, but with the continuation of thought, of discovery."

"Exactly. The Black Sepulchre is where knowledge doesn’t die. The dead, once they’ve shed their mortal shells, will be free to share their experiences, their insights, their truths. And those who seek that wisdom, those brave enough to walk through its doors, will gain something the living can only dream of. Eternal understanding. The knowledge of the ages, untouched by time."

"And we... we will guide them, won’t we? We, the keepers of the Sepulchre. We will protect the knowledge and allow the worthy to find it."

A painting of the unveiled Sepulchre

Credit to UnBaed

The descent into madness was not difficult, nor was it marked by any of the normal dangers that Elren had seen previously in his life. There were no shouting guards and there were no broken bottles or bar scuffles. Instead, the descent into madness could be noted by the rediscovery of Tawkin, a sudden knowledge of blood magic, and all those long-gone vampyr who associated with it. It was here that the descent into madness began.

One’s descent into madness is not enough to be a monster, however, and there was indeed another root cause in this case. The name of this cause was Daz’rukrai - Vasati Thelin. So too would this woman become the root cause of madness and chaos around the world for many others, as the first Naztherak of the modern era, to whom all demonologists can trace their lineage.

In time, their souls would be bound, and so the source of madness was ever present and its influence was suffocating.  It is this very madness that would drive Elren to one day kill his adopted daughter, and later his very wife. The man had become a monster.

Credit to BasilTheBunny

As Elren descended into a pool of blood and R E N emerged, there were stark differences. Where a man had entered, a monster left, and its hunger was never-ending. The body of a klone, ever-so meticulously put together, had been shredded apart, his soul tormented, licked, and gnawed on by fel flames. 

Now a creature of many mouths stood on hoofed feet, its gaze ever observant and judgemental. It was at this moment that a Glutton was born, a creature who could have no bounds to his hoarding. Be it food, relics, or horns - of which some twenty-five had been collected - R E N was never sated. 

So too was an unholy Scribe created this day, one that would tirelessly work to establish and strengthen the image of Velkuzat.

Credit to Unbaed

It was in Belvedere, The Home of Goats, where R E N would meet his end. It was here that the religion of Velkuzat was formed, and it was here that its creator would become a Martyr.

The ideas of Culture, Customs, Commandments, Trials, and Legends all had come from The Goat, yet many others had previously contributed with their own writings and experiences. In total, some twenty papers had been written about Velkuzat.

Although the goat herder had left his flock so soon, it was not due to a dislike of the creatures. Instead, there was a powerful call to His side, to serve in His armies where it was needed, and so that is where R E N would disappear to. It is said that even in vision and prophetic glimpses of Moz’Stromiza, one could occasionally see a tall Zar’akal among His legions.

Credit to TGRT_

However, a general warning should be given as the mighty Scribe would not venture into Moz’Strimoza without utilizing his full bag of tricks. And so, nearing his death, a small missive was sent out amongst the lands.

“Those who have signed their life in service to R E N, The Goat, and other lowly Lords,  know that these are not canceled, nor forgiven. Your soul is claimed by forces even greater than mine, and I hope this serves as a reminder.

Know that a wave of Gluttony and Pestilence sweeps the land. Know that while you hide from society, vomiting ash from your maw, your neighbors notice. Even those who have once submitted themselves to the Lords - like Haldir - are not safe.

And finally, Churchists, know that while I - R E N - may be away from this world, I am merely strengthening my legions in hell. When you die, and your soul falls into my grasp, there is no mercy.”

It was true, for across the land those who had been a benefactor of R E N, those who had written their names on his contracts, would be reminded of their deal for a final time.

| THE SUMMONING OF THE ALCHEMIST |

[!] This is only Viewable to those of Tor’Praeth

From the halls of the Servants of Bithe’vah - The Order of the Serpent

To those of Tor’Praeth, specifically the one who has become its known Alchemist - a summoning is in order. Recent events have driven our gaze to fall onto you and your workings, one craft of yours in particular. Our towers yearn for your presence, the halls of the Serpent whisper about you throughout the night - it has become obsessed. Gather yourself and begin your march to fulfill this calling, a journey to the south has been foreordained. 

We will greet you when you arrive upon our blessed halls. 

Villorik, Pontifical ‘Commandant’,

I must admit you’ve come far from our back alley dealings. I’m sure you have hunted many creatures since we’ve met - half-dead vampyr, weak undead, lowly sinners - yet you have never faced The Goat.

I have achieved full enlightenment, and all my actions reflect His vision for the world. You have resorted to weak arguments, attempting to cite old demonic messages of the climb, yet I know I am secure in my seat beside His throne. There is nothing you can do to divert my faith.

When Velkuzat sent emissaries to the city of Huk-Hrit in the year 21 of the second age, they rejoiced, for they all knew they were saved. The same has never occurred for your ‘god’. The legendary theologians of this city developed a simple phrase regarding those who spoke badly of them, and it can be used to accurately sum up your paper.

Gossip of The Geese about The Vulture.

You are cowardly and afraid. You hide behind legions of soldiers with names you do not remember instead of directly fighting me. Your missive speaks of destroying Belvedere; If you wanted to fight, all you had to do was knock on the gates. 

- R E N, Scribe of Velkuzat

“Resentment and complaint are appropriate neither for oneself nor others.”

A swordsman, a man, a vagabond—he was all and none of these at once. He was reborn. The Ronin stood, his form wreathed in ethereal flames as his heart embraced the searing warmth of a draconic mark. For the first time, he felt blessed—chosen. At last, he had found the Honō no Ko, the Child of Fire, a divine being who offered him a path of redemption and perfection. Yet, with this blessing came a suffocating weight, as though a serpent coiled around his shoulders, robbing him of breath. Alas, the sacrifice demanded of him to tread this path was monumental. Burning the last memento that tethered him to his humanity, to his mortality, brought with it haunting visions. Nightmares of his past clawed at him—memories of the blade that had betrayed him, cutting down everything he had loved and held dear. An accursed weapon that rose from the flames which now enveloped him. Its unholy edge had sliced through innocents, and Mikaboshi could only watch, powerless and paralyzed by fear, unable to charge through the fire to reclaim his soul and forge himself anew.

"You must forget your past, or it will be your undoing. Only then will you awaken upon the path of perfection."

The words came from a familiar, yet otherworldly voice. Where once it had been a feeling, it now took form—a pale serpent encircling his neck. It whispered into his ear: words of renown, promises of transformation. To ascend beyond fear and flame. To shed the weight of his past. To embrace obliteration and rise from the ashes—stronger, sharper, unyielding. And so, he heeded the serpent's call. He stepped into the fire through his new-found determination, letting it consume him entirely. His wrathful blade sang through the flames, roaring with rage and purpose. Mikaboshi no longer feared the fire. He welcomed it. As the inferno danced around him, it seeped into his very being, igniting his heart with passion, compassion, and righteous fury. Reforged in the crucible of flame, he rose anew. A warrior reborn, no longer afraid to face the wickedness that had once haunted him. His blade, now an extension of the all-consuming fire, was ready to carve a path of retribution amidst the chaos.

“Get beyond love and grief: exist for the good of Man.”

  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 

Steadily, the wrathful blade of Mikaboshi descended, slicing through all in its path. The nightmare crumbled, shattering into fragments as flames devoured what remained. CLINK, CLINK, CRACK! DRIP. The cacophony of broken blades, splintered bones, and spilling blood filled the air. Coiled tightly around his neck, the pale serpent grinned wickedly, its hissing laughter slicing through the din. It bore witness to the fury driving this man—the rage that fueled his crusade against the impure, carving a path of ambition unbound by morality or compassion. Each swing of his blade brought him closer to the perfection he sought, a perfection born of unrelenting violence and lies. Yet, amid the carnage, the bloodshed, and the cries of the fallen, Mikaboshi’s heart faltered. Through the crimson haze, they appeared—the ones he had burned. The faces that haunted him were the very reason for these nightmares. The serpent, slick and treacherous, whispered with a cruel delight:

"Let it be the last of your past. Kill them."

His eyes widened in horror. The visions of those he had once loved, now engulfed in flames, stared back at him. It was too late. The blade in his hands was an instrument of their destruction, and he had wielded it with precision, with wrath. Tears welled in his eyes as he gazed upon them, his visage lifting skyward in anguish.

And then…

And then…

And then!

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Not the sound of blood pooling beneath his feet, but of rain. Cool droplets fell from above, humming as they kissed the still-smoldering flames around him. A fleeting moment of clarity in the storm of his torment. Then, a flash of light shone upon his crimson eyes.

  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 

“To know ten thousand things, know one well.”

“嘘は愛”࿐ ࿔ֶָ֢˚☽˚.⋆

He awoke—safe, at last, from the nightmares that had tormented his mind and threatened his sanity. Above him loomed the rising sun, its light diffused through the gentle veil of rain and the tranquil flow of the river behind him. The visions had faded, but the warmth of the flames within his heart still lingered, a quiet memento of the path he now walked. Nevertheless, releasing a deep sigh of relief, he rose to his feet. His gaze turned way more upward, pensive, his age and wisdom carved into his features. He had seen thousands of years, countless battles, and endless suffering, but now, for the first time, there was clarity—a single truth he held onto. He knew one thing well.

"Jibun no subeki koto ga wakatte iru."

I know what my duty is.

In the serene embrace of the natural world around him, he retrieved his relic—his cherished Nodachi. With deliberate grace, he began to swing it through the air, the blade cutting silently against the wind. The troubles of his path weighed heavily upon him, but he was resolute. He would never yield to the serpent’s whispers, never be consumed by the flames that sought to master him. Instead, he would tame them, guide them, and remain steadfast as Oyashiman. This was his way.  

“嘘は愛”࿐ ࿔ֶָ֢˚☽˚.⋆

Thus...

This was his beginning...  

For...  

DIVINE REDEMPTION. 

Legends of The Goat

Revealed to and transcribed by R E N, Scribe of Velkuzat in 210 of the second age.

A goat surveys the mountainside, searching for enemies.

Left or right, which path to take? As the guardsman wondered which direction would take him back to camp, he undid his helmet strap and tucked the object into the crux of his elbow. He held his torch outward with his left hand as he attempted to peer deeply into the dense woodline, though he could see nothing more than the few trees ahead of himself and remnant hoof marks of past creatures who had traveled the land.

Deciding that a farmer must have traveled through the area recently, the man went off after the tracks. But these soon disappeared. Turning around to head back, the man saw that even the tracks he followed were gone. 

He was lost, helplessly so.

In the distance, there was the sound of a weak bleat. Deciding it was his only option, the guard walked aimlessly towards it. He would never make it to his destination. The following morning when the search party was sent for him, all they found was a destroyed pair of armor - trampled by a set of hoofs.

Although many of the descendants slain by His followers fall to either infernal beasts or man, some loyal creatures also play a role in leading unwary victims to their doom. These creatures, whether by luring descendants into unfamiliar territory - as in the story above - or by directly attacking soldiers on mountainsides, serve as agents of His will.

Numerous legends tell of rogue goats slaying a soldier at a critical moment, or causing chaos in a village square, but there are also many other stories revolving around His will. While most of these merely serve as conversational tools to teach people about Velkuzat and the workings of His army, others are thought to have legitimacy, even if their arts are currently lost to time.

A forge, endlessly spewing molten rokodra.

When one was approaching the legendary Forge of Kaz, there could be no mistake what territory of Velkuzat you were in. The sounds of heavy hammers slamming onto hardening metals echoed for miles as the forge was approached. Your ears grew tired from the noise before the forge was even in view.

One could find the forge without relying on sound too. Endless caravans of rokodra streamed back from the front lines, creating a clear path for anyone to follow. It was here, at the Forge of Kaz, that Velkuzat equipped his legions.

—

The Forge of Kaz was a forge controlled by Velkuzat that was necessary for the mass production of Rokodra before the mining city of Rokhard-maek was captured in the year 124 of The Second Age_[1]. 

This forge was not simply where raw materials were turned into Rokodra - but quite the opposite. When soldiers and fighters of His army would decimate another army, there would naturally be plenty of rokodra left on the battlefield. This armor - marked in the colors and symbols of foreign legions_[2] - would then be transported back to the Forge of Kaz, where it could be remade into new armor.

However, for most armies, this was an inefficient process. A percent of the metal was lost as it is with modern forging techniques. To combat this, Velkuzat blessed the forge to consume blood as energy. With large quantities of blood - oftentimes easily obtained from nearby battles - the forge could remake an entire set of rokodra armor without losing any metal.

[1] - More information about Rokhard–maek can be found in the paper: "Culture and Customs of The Goat”

[2] - Rokodra glows the color of the forge master’s malflame, and so it must be remade to recolor it properly.

A follower of The Goat offers blood to an assisting demon. 

A beggar, poor and tired, sat on the edge of the cobble street. He held out a hand to those who passed in hopes of gaining even a singular coin. Many passed without offering anything, though eventually a robed man stopped and offered a hand to him. He stated that he could assist the beggar, and give him a fresh life. 

The beggar had heard stories of this before and was afraid of losing his spot. Wary of the man, he swatted away his hand and told him to leave. To his astonishment, as the robed man left, he saw that he was walking on a pair of hooved feet. 

The beggar quickly rose to his feet so that he could follow the robed figure - but he could not move. He opened his mouth to call out to him, but no sound came from it. Velkuzat had offered him a new life - and the beggar had not recognized Him.

—

In the same way that one would not show up to church without a coin to give, and how one would not expect a demon to assist without a bit of a bribe, Velkuzat expects you to recognize His assistance when it is offered. There is little that one must do to earn his favor - especially the poor and hungry_[3] - but do not expect to be offered a second chance at life often.

Those who wish to be influenced by Him must keep their eyes open. His emissaries roam the world, and one never knows when they may be approached. Likewise, it would be wise for those especially loyal to Him to keep a bit of extra food on their persons at all times. It would naturally draw his ire if an emissary was met and no food was offered.

[3] - This is referenced in the paper: "Trial and Commands of The Goat".

A rokodra helmet survives against a burst of flame.

Amid one of the endless wars of Moz’Strimoza, Velkuzat and his legions were experimenting. It had not been long ago that the best blood mages of The Bat had been captured and quickly put to work. This group was tasked with creating bloodless soldiers - and it would not be long before this goal was realized.

These soldiers were said to possess infinite stamina, able to march and fight forever as if untouched by fatigue. Like the ancient runes that once adorned the soldiers, the rituals that were used to forge these limitless soldiers were eventually lost to time. The stories of their might and the souls bound to armor were not.

—

The fort of Alzkark erupted in chaos as loud alarm bells rang out. Zevn flew frantically through the sky and screamed in Ilzakarn while zar’ei scrambled to arm themselves. A small detachment of Velkuzat’s soldiers had been spotted nearby - dressed head to toe in rokodra armor.

The zar’ei and zevn quickly gathered into a small warband and marched out into the wastes of Moz’Strimoza. They soon encountered just a few rokodra fighters - the armor was engraved fully with blood magic runes. As the groups closed in on each other, a battle quickly began.

A multitude of imps flew at the first set of armor - though they could not separate the armor’s plates to expose the wearer beneath. A few zar’ei then began to assault one of His soldiers with warhammers - though the armor would not dent. Finally, after one of the armored suits had slain a few fighters, a zar’ei managed to stab deep into the armor. When his sword was withdrawn, there was no blood.

The fort was quickly claimed by His forces, and more of these bloodless soldiers were produced. It is unknown what was responsible for their eventual demise.

A symbol was present at the bottom of the page, denoting the author and his affiliation.

The imp storm unleashed.

Upon the barren and sulfur-filled wastes of Moz’Strimoza the legions of Velkuzat marched onward, toward Zathairn's prison camp of Akdmae. As the camp came into view along the horizon, the kozun kradulu stepped forward. Turning and addressing his soldiers, the demon spoke a simple decree. “Fight hard and consume your enemy today. Know that by tomorrow no follower of The Goat shall be imprisoned ever again.”

A dizzying trend has begun to appear across Aevos. Once free creatures are now being ripped from their homes en masse so that they may be enslaved. Once captured, these creatures are forced to endure incessant taunting so that their horns may be forcefully harvested.

Of course, I am talking about the mighty goat. 

-=-

There is no bigger slight against Velkuzat than to capture and torture His creations. Consider this an official warning. The followers of The Goat are not writers who merely fantasize about fixing their problems, and we are not ones to take offenses against Velkuzat lightly. 

To bring about action against the wicked Goat Hoarders we have summoned a large legion of inferi beasts. - Of course, only summoning them is not satisfactory, and so we deployed them against a pitiful goat entrapment hidden within a Haenseti vassal. Within minutes, the building was destroyed by the powerful zevn zevik and His creations were freed.

Know that our legions grow by the day, and that His followers are not blind. Release your goats. 

Signed, R E N - Scribe of Velkuzat

THE WAY OF THE SERPENT

The Bastion of Purity

WER IDOL DI WER ADULESE

The Child - The descendents of Azdromoth, Nephilim.

The Father - Azdromoth, the Daemon of Fate.

Bithe’Vah - The Binding End, the sealing of the realm in which the plane of the Father is entered from.

The Serpent - The egregore in which the Serpent has created.

Egregore - An egregore is a non-physical entity that is thought to arise from the collective emotions and thoughts of a group of people.

The Known - Tenets or Commandments of the Order. 

The Order of the Serpent

The Order of the Serpent is a path that counteracts conventional philosophies and worship of Azdromothian Descendents. It is founded on the principle of transformation of oneself and the world around them through contrivance and manipulation. It is a collection of the Ascended Child, each embodying a unique aspect of the Serpent. These Children are not only the living embodiments of the Serpent’s nature but are also the harbingers of Bithe'vah—the ultimate cleansing of the world. Each soul that rises to Nephilim-hood mantles a part of the Serpent’s form that represents them best. When the serpent is fully complete, only then shall the day of Bithe’vah rain down upon the world.

 Followers of the Order master the arts of deception, power, and sacrifice to reshape reality according to their desires. Their existence is a manifestation of their ambitions, and through their ascended roles, they personify the very lies and aspirations they projected to gain their place among their kin. The Order’s hierarchy reflects different facets of the Serpent’s essence, with each member contributing to the enactment of Bithe'vah, ensuring its realization as both their embodiment and their destiny.

To engage with the world around them, the Order works together to form a false identity in which they enact their goals and plans. Whether this be the broken image of a noble family, a band of traveling merchants, ancient knights descending from the ruins atop a mountain, the Order rarely engages directly with the world. This is to preserve the desire that is Bithe’vah so that the Order may succeed in their attempts. 

The Definition of Bithe’vah

The meaning of Bithe'vah has long been misunderstood. Commonly translated as "The Binding End," it was originally interpreted as a sacred day for the Material Realm, when the world would darken and be revealed to the Flames of Perfection. Bithe'vah was believed to cleanse everything of its sins, curses, and maladies, leaving only purity and perfection in its wake. However, with the Ascension of the Father, the definition of Bithe'vah has been redefined for the New Age:

It is now understood as the act of a convergence of the Material Realm—the unifying of the world into a single, untouched state of existence, a canvas that will bear no artist. This includes the removal of all worldly influences, even those who usher in this sacred day, as they ascend with its fires once their duty is complete.

The Known

In the wake of the Father’s Ascension, the material world found itself deprived of a sovereign worthy of the throne. The realm lay vulnerable, exposed to the insidious influence of the Aengudaemonic beings who once again extended their grasp over it. Below lies the Known, a term encapsulating the current state of the material world and its denizens.

I. The mortality of descendent-kind has been forsaken, their precious gift of life withering away as they fail to seize the reins of ascension.

II. No longer shall descendent-kind be regarded as the world’s driving force, for their souls and bodies too easily influenced by the Aengudaemonic presence.

III. The Father, having ascended in Victory, is no longer King of the Material Realm.

IV. The Father’s realm must be zealously safeguarded from those who would seek to taint and infiltrate it with their unworthy souls.

V. The Child, an eternal being, is bound by existence itself to assume the vacant throne of the Father.

VI. The Aengudaemonic hands must be manipulated as they reach into the Material Realm.

VII. Those who seek to undermine the Child's ascension shall be met with an unyielding and devastating response.

IX. The sanctity of the Father's legacy must be preserved, and all who challenge it shall face relentless opposition.

X. The ascension of the unworthy must be thwarted at all costs, let dragonfire rain down upon man. 

Ascension

In the Order of the Serpent, ascension represents the ultimate transcendence beyond mortal limitations, achieved through the completion of trials embodying various aspects of the Serpent. Each trial demands that aspirants demonstrate mastery over manipulation, power, and sacrifice, reflecting the essence of the Serpent’s nature. 

Those who aspire a place within the Order mentor beneath one of the Order’s crucial parts, undergoing a series of trials until the day of their proposed Ascension. Should they complete the tasks to determine their value to the Order, a vote will be held by the parts of the Order to determine if the aspirant shall ascend and claim a role of the Serpent itself. Should the aspirant seek to claim the role of an existing member a duel will be held on the greatest stakes a life can endure - the risk of eternal death. On the rarest of circumstances, a new role may be found within the mind of an aspirant, a feat never accomplished before. 

To ascend is to shed one’s mortal soul and reject their descendent-kind nature, embracing a higher, divine existence. This transformation is not merely a reward but a profound rebirth, aligning with the tenets outlined in The Known. It is a necessary step for those who seek to contribute to Bithe'vah, the grand cleansing of the world, as it signifies their readiness to fulfill the role of the Serpent’s embodiment.

 Ascension thus marks both the renunciation of the failures of descendent-kind and the preparation for the ultimate enactment of Bithe'vah, where the world’s flaws will be purged, and only the purified will remain. 

The Serpent

The Serpent in itself is that of an Egregore - an entity that will form through the collective beliefs and actions of those who embody its existence. Each Nephilim within the Order takes upon a part of the Serpent to serve as a physical representation of it. Bithe’vah cannot come until the entire Serpent has been formed, as it is the Serpent that will be the weapon which is Bithe’vah - the Serpent that consumes reality itself.  Should a part of the Serpent fail to the highest degree, it will be severed in an attempt to save those that remain.

To accompany the Nephilim of the Order, the Serpent is also manifested in a series of relics and artifacts that members of the order wield. The Nephilim that make up the Serpent  act as a joint council of the Way of the Serpent. These Nephilim cannot be intercepted from other groups of Nephilim, nor can they be outsiders. Nephilim within the Way of the Serpent can only be created from students within the Order. All nephilim are teachers, and are expected to contribute to guiding the mind of those who fall upon the bed of our lies. Nephilim of this path are signified by a wispy, serpentine voice. Their voices sound as if there are multiple whispers behind it. Should you be in the room of a Nephilim from this path, you will often hear otherworldly voices accompanying them. Many take upon yellow or golden fires to further tie themselves to this Way.

(Roles that are filled are denoted with a * )

The Tongue*

The Tongue of the Serpent embodies the aspect of manipulation and lies. To achieve greatness, all things must be accounted for—whether it be deception, politics, persuasion, or preaching. Nothing should be overlooked to accomplish what must be achieved. The foundation of this Way relies on the interpretation of the Serpent; how it is portrayed determines the success of Bithe’vah. The Tongue is the voice that guides and misguides, weaving the narratives that lead followers and foes alike toward the ultimate goal.

The Eye*

The Eye of the Serpent serves as the ceremonial figurehead of the Order's beliefs, guiding all aspirants and Parts of the Serpent through the rituals ordained by prophecy. The Eye shares prophecies and leads rituals to strengthen the belief in and conviction toward Bithe’vah, celebrating ascendants who achieve their place within the Serpent. The Eye oversees all, ensuring that every step taken is in alignment with the sacred path, providing vision and insight into the Serpent’s ultimate design.

The Heart*

The Heart of the Serpent is the gamemaker and teacher who upholds the Order. This role ensures that all members perform their duties effectively, propelling students forward and designing trials to test their resolve and capabilities. The Heart maintains the Order's structure, providing guidance and support to ensure that every part of the Serpent works in harmony toward the fulfillment of Bithe’vah.

The Gut

The Gut of the Serpent emphasizes the importance of timing, mercy, and diligence. Serpents must know when to recede into the shadows and when to strike. It is crucial that they practice restraint and patience, avoiding the pitfalls of greed and overreach. The Gut serves as counsel for decision-making, balancing morals and pragmatism, and ensuring that the Serpent's hunger is satisfied at the right moment without succumbing to reckless ambition.

The Fang

The Fang of the Serpent is its most notable feature, executing the orders of the Council with deadly precision. This role is responsible for teaching combat techniques, assassination methods, and espionage skills. The Fang strikes swiftly and decisively, ensuring that the goals of the Order are met through direct and often lethal action. They are the enforcers and protectors of the Serpent’s will, eliminating threats with cold efficiency.

The Tail

The Tail of the Serpent is the great Inquisitor of the Way, tasked with excising those who would hinder the coming of the Holy Day. The Tail constricts around enemies, eliminating them before they realize the danger. Teaching the art of appearing unassuming and using the element of surprise, the Tail ensures that the Serpent can strike effectively from the shadows. They are the guardians of the Order’s secrecy and integrity, rooting out and destroying internal and external threats.

The Scale

The Scale of the Serpent is the creator and smith, crafting and tinkering to advance the Order’s cause. This role is responsible for producing the tools, weapons, and artifacts necessary for the Serpent’s members to fulfill their duties. The Scale’s creations are essential for the survival and success of the Order, providing the means to overcome challenges and achieve Bithe’vah.

The Flame

The Flame of the Serpent is the screamer and martyr, the one who professes the beliefs of the Order to the world through fire. This role is for the loudest and most fervent members, those who are unafraid to proclaim the Serpent’s teachings and incite others to follow. The Flame inspires and rallies the faithful, sacrificing themselves if necessary to ensure that the message of Bithe’vah is heard and heeded. They are the torchbearers of the Order’s ideology, spreading its influence far and wide.

The Shadow

The Shadow of the Serpent is the master of stealth and subterfuge. This role involves gathering intelligence, spying on enemies, and executing covert operations. The Shadow works unseen, collecting vital information and performing tasks that require absolute secrecy. They are the unseen hand that manipulates events from behind the scenes.

The Wing

The Wing of the Serpent embodies the dual aspects of freedom and protection, essential for expanding the Order’s influence while ensuring its safety and stability. This role involves exploring new territories, establishing the Order’s presence in distant lands, and gathering vital information to identify opportunities for expansion. The Wing ensures the Order remains aware of external developments, allowing it to react swiftly to potential threats or opportunities.

The Trials

There are many trials that lay ahead of those who seek to join the Order of the Serpent. The first of these trials is unofficial, and refers to the discernment of prospective students. It is well known that the Order only takes students should they believe they can provide an unfilled, substantial role to the Order’s current standing.

Students will be selected sparingly throughout time. Whether it be a stranger that approached the lands in which the order holds, or a selected being amidst a crowd in a town. These students enter a high stakes game which is their trials. They will be filtered and tested to ensure that they can serve a purpose. There may even be times, in which one does not know they have been entered onto these trials. 

Aspirants may select their trials based on their interest within the order. Once the completion of TWO trials has been made a marking is bestowed upon the aspirant. Once a total of FIVE trials has been made the marking is enhanced, expanding the power of the aspirant so that they may complete a total of SEVEN trials before undergoing the Serpent’s Trial. 

The Tongue

The aspirant must infiltrate a high-stakes political or social gathering, using their skills in persuasion, deception, and rhetoric to manipulate key figures and influence the outcome in the Order’s favor. This trial serving as one in which the aspirant can show their ability to subtly steer conversations, sow discord among enemies, and secure alliances without revealing their true intentions.

The Eye

To understand the role of the eye, the aspirant is set out on a quest, seeking prophetic insights through engaging with the ebb and flow of the world on the most sacred of degrees. They must return with a vision of the Order’s future, interpret its significance, and lead a ritual that aligns the Order’s actions with this prophecy, demonstrating their ability to foresee and guide the path to Bithe’vah.

The Heart

The aspirant is tasked with designing a trial of their own design. This trial is one that they will undergo themselves as the results of such is studied by the Order. To succeed in this trial it must have a positive reflection on the members of the Serpent. There are no bounds that this trial may follow, leaving it to the hands of the one who undergoes it. 

The Gut

The aspirant must navigate a series of moral and strategic dilemmas, making difficult decisions that balance mercy, pragmatism, and timing. They must demonstrate their ability to exercise restraint and patience, striking only when the moment is right. The options of this trial are determined by the member of the Order which presents it to the aspirant. Their success is judged by the outcomes of their decisions and their ability to maintain the Serpent’s integrity without succumbing to reckless ambition.

The Fang

To complete this trial the aspirant is given a target of the Order’s choice. To complete it the aspirant must effectively carry out a mission utilizing any tools available to ensure its success.. This trial tests their combat prowess, stealth, and precision. The completion of this trial is determined by their ability to complete the mission swiftly and efficiently, leaving no trace of their involvement.

The Tail

The trial of the Tail involves an aspirant being taken to a busy square. Upon which the giver of the trial will disguise themselves into the crowd. The aspirant will then be tasked to use the skills imparted onto them to find them within  the crowd. The goal of this being the aspirant's ability to process the world and threats around them to use them to their own gain.

The Talon

The Aspirant will be set out on a mission decided by the Order. They are to take their own students or companions to form a small force of warriors to show their capability to lead. They must complete the goal set forwards at all costs necessary. Lives may be lost, blood can be spilled, the only thing that matters is that the task at hand is completed.

The Scale

The aspirant is tasked with designing and crafting a unique artifact or weapon that addresses a specific need of the Order. They must demonstrate their creativity, technical skill, and understanding of the Order’s requirements. Success is measured by the functionality, innovation, and impact of their creation on the Order’s missions.

The Flame

The aspirant must publicly profess a strong belief of the Known, inciting passion and loyalty among the faithful while enduring intense scrutiny and opposition. They must demonstrate unwavering conviction and the ability to inspire others, even in the face of personal danger. In many instances this may incite a riot, in others this may rally more to the cause.

The Shadow

The aspirant must gather critical intelligence on a formidable enemy without being detected. This involves infiltrating enemy territory, collecting vital information, and returning undetected. To succeed in this trial the success is determined by the one which holds the trial and the measurement of the accuracy and value of the intelligence gathered and their ability to remain unseen throughout the mission.

The Wing

The aspirant must explore a new territory or realm  as well as establish a connection for the Order to begin its workings within it. They must demonstrate their ability to adapt to new environments, gather intelligence, and expand the Order’s influence. Success is judged by their ability to establish a foothold and provide valuable insights for the Order’s strategic planning.

The Serpent's Trial

The Trial of the Serpent, and the last trial of the Order, is that of ascension. It is in this trial that the student will stand before the Order, giving their plea to be fully implemented into the Serpent’s Workings. A vote will take place, should a ⅔ majority be achieved then the student will be granted ascension onto the Serpent. It is here that the final sacrifice will take place as their soul becomes consumed by the very entity before them, a flame claiming the husk of a body that is to be left behind.

‡ THE SURRENDER OF HONKMAT‡

'Ere the race of Men rode themselves, 

Nephilim, Ash-Knights, scaled the walls of Honkmat, 

Ringing bells, summoned they the foul magi of the city, 

Reaving the city, they were cast down before the Nephilim Prince, 

An oath was made; Surrender would be given before the race of Man.

With my Ash-Knights did we break their wills. One sorcerer after another were pilled one after the other. The lover of the Great-Magister was cast at my feet. She begged for mercy. Waving the words of the Pontiff, they had been given Seven Saint's days. Thus, Seven Days do we give them, before we should return.

Thus we told them, they should surrender, sooner than later. Oath they struck, before me. Already, they write their surrender. Perhaps it would have been wise, if they had writ it faster. Men of the Canon; they yearn for your Mercy.

We hope Man, Ravenmire foremost, shall forgive us - if their blood did not drip from our swords. Plainly, you gave them Seven Days too many.

Trials and Commands of The Goat

Revealed to and transcribed by R E N, Scribe of Velkuzat in 191 of the second age.

Simply a goat.

In the year 21 of the second age, Velkuzat sent religious emissaries to the city of Huk-Hrit, located within the central region of his lands. This city was comprised of blackened stones and bricks, though any visitor would have never known such. Instead, a spectator would notice that the bricks seemed to weep dark red blood, supplying the near-endless thirst of the inhabitants and the many priests within.

When the emissaries arrived at the city they were greeted kindly, and great feasts were held in their honor. In return, the religious leaders relayed their great news from Velkuzat; Huk-Hrit was to become the central city of religion and renamed to Moz-Kortret. The inhabitants were then instructed to build a large statue of Him, and so they did.

Upon completion of the statue, the emissaries gifted the citizens a plaque containing five religious trials. They stated that anyone who wished to become true religious followers of Him would abide by them faithfully. Ever since this event, Moz-Kortret has been a central pillar of religion within His lands, and it is considered a great milestone to travel to the city. However, due to the constant wars within Moz’Strimoza, it is rare for a zar’ei to ever have the chance to visit it, and even rarer for a zevn, as both are near constantly damned to fight.

The religious trials and commands are presented below, so that anyone may become one of His flock.

The Five trials and commands are sacred to followers of The Goat and are completed by aspiring members of His flock. It is thought that there were five given to symbolize The Pentacle of Moz’Strimoza, and each trial completed brings the worshiper further away from the other four and closer to the fifth lord, Velkuzat. The trials are to be done in the order listed here, and cheating or rushing through them is a sign of weakness that can not be permitted.

An intricate pool of blood.

In the very early days of descendant demonology, a young and wealthy demonologist spoke to his teacher. “I do not understand, I have hordes of wealth, yet I have not appealed fully to Velkuzat. He does not welcome me in his flock.” The teacher then spoke. “Your unearned wealth clouds your mind. A poor and starving beggar is more prepared to receive His word than even the richest of kings. It is always the hungriest dog that becomes the most loyal when it is given food.”

It was then after a long period of introspection that the student decided to truly prepare themselves for Velkuzat and his word. Standing before a pool of blood in his most luxurious robes and jewelry, the student suddenly stepped forward and submerged themself. It was only when he emerged that his clothes were permanently stained red, and his jewelry had fallen away to nothingness. It is thought that this action began this tradition of cleansing.

—

To fully receive the words and the blessing of The Goat, one must first cleanse their mind and body. To do such, worshippers are instructed to starve themselves and live as if they have nothing for a short period of time.

First, a devotee of The Goat must adopt a diet of only a single loaf of basic bread and two large cups of water per day. This will allow their body to fully appreciate the bounties and food that The Goat bestows upon them. Aside from the diet, reading for leisure is also not allowed, as this would allow the mind an easy escape from reality. Furthermore, it is not uncommon for the especially faithful to blindfold themselves for the duration of this test.

Self-cleansing requires a full year of one’s life, though some may wish to extend it to a second year if they feel that they are not completely cleansed. To mark the ending of the self-cleansing, the devotee must completely submerge themself within a pit of blood and gore, much like the student in the first story.

A depiction of the first Joyous Bounty.

Long ago in the land of humanity, there was a story that circulated about Velkuzat and his power to cripple a seemingly powerful queen. It goes like this.

During a time of immense strife, there was a lowly fiefdom, ruled by a large castle on the nearby hill. This fiefdom had been stricken by an intense plague, affecting both the inhabitants and their crops. Despite this, the ruling Queen cared little and oftentimes hosted balls and intricate feasts for her friends. During one of these feasts, her large boasting fell victim to the gaze of Velkuzat.

As the guests finished their large feast, they raised their glasses for one final toast, though they were not aware that it would be their last. Upon drinking the liquid in the glasses, they were all struck with an inexplicable thirst for more as the drinks were locked to their lips. The members of the group began to chug the red wine, though the alcohol seemed to always refill - it only took a few moments before each member began to fall dead.

Appearing as a goat in the village below, Velkuzat soon spoke to the hungry villagers. “To you, the starving and poor, I offer you a Joyous Bounty. Go forth to the castle, consume all.” And so they did.

—

The Joyous Bounty is the second trial that a follower of The Goat must go through. When a devotee is tired, hungry, and weakened from self-cleansing, they are permitted to hold their own Joyous Bounty for their fellow followers of Velkuzat. During this feast, they are expected to provide copious amounts of food, drink, entertainment, and to lead the group in a large prayer.

In addition to the feast listed above, it is rumored that those who bound their eyes during self-cleansing are rewarded with incredible sight - a boon from Him.

This stage lasts a singular year, or until the feast occurs. It is considered extremely selfish for a devotee to voluntarily remain at this stage, or push off the feast so that they may fall idle.

A twisted shrine to Velkuzat.

A priest of Velkuzat knelt at a shrine he had created within the woodlands, his eyes shut and his mind focused on worship. From behind, an elven guard stepped up to the rock that he knelt on. Without any words or warning, the guard withdrew his sword and quickly swung at the priest, though the weapon never made contact with the man.

As the sword neared the priest, the metal it was made from melted away into a vile, black haze. Turning to the attacker, the priest then spoke a simple proverb to him. “The evil deeds a man has done before defend him.” As he spoke, a jet of black malflame spewed from the shrine and latched onto the attacker, causing him to flee and the priest to remain safe.

—

Creating Praise is the third step to becoming a true worshiper of The Goat, and it involves reflecting upon and spreading his word. Devotees are encouraged to write public missives and books, or create shrines and artwork detailing Him and what He offers to the world.

It is not uncommon for worshippers in this stage to attempt to recruit their close friends or family into The Goat's ways, and they often recall stories of their Joyous Bouty and other proverbs to them.

This stage generally lasts two years, and one of those years is oftentimes spent in the dangerous ways of a missionary, spreading His word to those who are hostile and do not want to hear it.

A band of female devotees create a vicious poison.

One of the first recorded Magnum Opuses dates back to the days of Arcas. It was here that a handful of female followers (promptly called witches at the time) decided that they could no longer live under oppression. 

To spite their lords, the witches attempted to appeal to Velkuzat, and it was here that they created a most intense alchemical poison. With His help, the witches were able to bind together wax, death, blindness, poison, and connection into a vile concoction. It is then recorded that the five witches split the poison, and each used it differently depending on their needs.

The first witch poured the poison into her local well, and so the whole village fell deathly sick. The second dumped the poison into the fields, and so no crop could ever grow there again. The third put her share of the liquid into the king’s cup, and it is said once he drank it, he died and began to rot instantaneously. The fourth witch took the poison and used it against followers of Kiiztria and Kholidav in an evil twist against their lords. The final witch was said to keep the poison and never use it. Perhaps it could even be found today…

—

Just as the painter may dedicate his entire life to one cathedral ceiling, and the sculptor may attempt to create the largest statue known to man, those who follow Velkuzat are encouraged to devote a large portion of their lives to one magnum opus. This project ultimately defines the way that the worshiper wishes to be perceived for their career, and it is not to be taken lightly. A fighter may gather the heads of fifteen foes and display them elegantly for the rest of the worshipers to view, while a writer may release multiple theses on The Goat and his effect on the world. 

Ultimately, there are only a few qualifications for this act. The first is that the project must be grand and impressive, something worthy of Him and his attention. The second is that the project should not be rushed, lest important details be skipped. Finally, non-followers of The Goat should not assist in the creation of one’s magnum opus unless necessary or integral to the theme. Those who wish for their project to be especially worthy of praise may also attempt to create an opus that benefits all followers of Him.

As mentioned above, this project is meant to showcase intense dedication and worship to Velkuzat. To cheat or take shortcuts on this is an incredible disgrace, much akin to Ilza. People stay on this stage until their project is complete, and some may even spend half of their life on it.

A priest of Velkuzat.

An old, withered priest and fully devoted worshiper of Velkuzat stood before his large shrine in a cathedral he created. The human had spent some seventy years creating such a structure.

Raising his hands into the sky, he spoke. “O’ Lord Velkuzat hear my prayers, see my actions. I devote my life wholly to you.” Upon finishing his prayer, bright red and orange light began to shine through the stained glass windows. Eventually coalescing onto the priest, the man soon began to float in the air.

Though he was at the end of his life, Velkuzat would not let such a devoted follower fall to the human’s curse, and so the man was quickly turned into a Zar’ei so that he could spread His word forever.

—

Those who have created and showcased their magnum opus to the world may become true followers of Velkuzat. These worshipers may fully teach others the trials and commands listed here and oftentimes make it their lives to spread His word. To achieve full enlightenment is to accept that He will carry you through life and that even death does not stand between one and His word.

I, R E N hereby call the followers of The Goat to meet me, so that together we may expand your knowledge of Him, and so you may begin to follow His words listed above.

A symbol was present at the bottom of the page, denoting the author.

Culture and Customs of The Goat

Revealed to and transcribed by R E N, Scribe of Velkuzat in 184 of the second age.

Depictions of various goats.

In the year 124 of The Second Age, with the signal of a loud trumpet, the hordes of Velkuzat descended upon the mining city of Rokhard-maek upon his western border. Not long after this signal, the sweet metallic smell of blood, rakir, and sulfur combined into an awful, foul stench as the infernal slaves and workers of the town were all slaughtered and soon consumed.

Once the battle was concluded and the excess of rakir was drunk, the army of Velkuzat gathered within the central portion of the brimstone mine - roughly a full day after the battle. From an elevated position, the leading general spoke Velkuzat’s message to the assembled masses of inferi. Roughly translated, it reads:

“Yesterday as the brimstone mines filled with rakir, we drank until they emptied. Today as the bodies are piled high, we feast until we are full. Tomorrow, when all is mined, we glow in beautiful blue rokodra.”

The culture and practices of those devoted to The Goat are intertwined with the history of Velkuzat and the broader field of demonology as a whole. These traditions often originate from the sayings, teachings, and significant events associated with Velkuzat or his legions.

While strict adherence to all the traditions and practices listed below is not mandatory, those who seek to demonstrate exceptional loyalty or to gain favor with Him are encouraged to engage in as many of these practices as possible. This paper also does not contain all traditions and practices of those who devote themselves, though all listed below are core tenets.

A mighty and redeemed creature.

Standing before a lesser lord's defeated and lowly worshiper, a Prince of Velkuzat lifted his sword high, positioned to kill. Speaking through a nearby familiar, Velkuzat commanded his faithful - “Offer a singular chance of redemption before their being is consumed.” Following this command, the false worshiper was offered repentance, though upon rejection of such an idea, was slain.

—

Considered a core tenant of Velkuzat’s Worship, enemies of The Goat are to be offered the option to accept Him before their death. Frequently, this will appear as a simple prayer and the option to repent, should the heat of battle allow for such. Should it not, the phrase “Be Consumed.” is said in its place as a simple prayer and as an offering to The Goat.

This is to say that death is not the only option, but far from it. If a defeated foe accepts Velkuzat with all their heart, they may be spared in return for a life of worship. However, if even a little hesitation is sensed, their soul should be sent to Him to be wholly consumed.

These redemption prayers are often based on the ideas and actions of Velkuzat. A few of the common examples and stories behind the prayers are listed below, and being defeated in combat is not a requirement for someone to repent.

While wandering across the wastes of Moz Strimoza for many days, the army of Velkuzat grew hungry and wary. Zevn caused trouble, and zekul snapped their maws at the slightest inconvenience. 

After following a general of Velkuzat’ through a forest of gatrov, his army soon stumbled across a path carved by hooves in the ground, revealed to them by a shimmering green flame. Upon seeing this sight, Velkuzat’s forces traced the pathway, and they soon found themselves at the flank of an army of Kiiztria. It was only a few moments later that a decisive victory was found, and those of Velkuzat had earned themselves a feast.

The prayer “Velkuzat, guide my feet and my blade. In return, I dedicate this feast to you” is created from this story. This is primarily used against those who are entering battle, though a secondary version is often said by those who are repenting. “Velkuzat, I now walk your path. Guide my feet and my blade in your name.”

—

Another story tells of an instance where a starved man wandering amongst humanity’s cruel battlefields had reached his end. With ribs showing and skin clung tightly to bone, the man turned to Velkuzat. 

While lying in a pile of mud, the poor soldier cried out “Velkuzat, hear my prayer, deliver me strength this day, and in return, I will offer you feasts from the kingdoms you oppose.” The man then fell unconscious, though miraculously he awoke as a fattened zar’ei soldier. Following this event, this zar’ei would work tirelessly to repay the debt of the endless life and power he had been granted. 

This prayer is considered a sign of good faith by those repenting with it, as they accept whatever powers they are granted and in return keep their life. In fact, many who speak this are not granted any powers but are instead given the strength to continue living while they fight in His name.

—

The third and final story tells of a woman who, when captured, begged for her life and swore her life to The Goat. Despite this, when released, the woman soon retreated to a canonist town and repented her sins to a priest.

The Goat instantly knew of this betrayal, so he dispatched an Inferi warlock from one of his legions to deal with the situation. Upon arriving at the woman, the warlock enacted a horrible curse upon her and her family.  After a quick chant of Ilzakarn, the lady was stricken by an insatiable hunger that would persist throughout generations.

This woman would eventually go on to eat herself to death, the curse getting the better of her. Her sons too found this curse applied to them, and at a young age as their city was besieged, they could not even fit properly into their armor, and so they too died. The mother became known as “Mother Sinner” by those in the town who survived the attack.

Derived from this story is a prayer for those who seek repentance - “Dear Velkuzat, grant me strength to walk your path and follow your words, lest I turn into Mother Sinner, my generations cursed forever.”

The information about The Lords was mostly unknown during the first ascension of the infernal powers to mortals. This caused the mortal demonologists to band together with little thought or purpose. People would often follow multiple lords or even none at all. It was not until the first Brotherhood of The Goat was formed that this changed.

This group of Velkuzat followers worked together, fought together, and even died together. They remained strong and were a leading force of demonologists that no one wished to interfere with. This was until a follower of Drazhana infiltrated the group. This follower, known as Ilza, had grown paranoid about the group’s strength and soon orchestrated an attack with a neighboring nation's army. Waiting until night, Ilza led a band of guards into the hideout of The Brotherhood and had many of them killed. Following this event, the Brotherhood disbanded entirely, with each remaining member retreating into hiding for a long time.

—

Modern-day followers of Velkuzat view this event as a sad tragedy of the past, though they also allow it to influence their current and future decisions. It is due to the Brotherhood described above that worshipers and devotees still stick together, primarily assisting others of The Goat before other lords.

Likewise, those who are thought to be a potential Ilza, or who are bound to Him but do not worship are treated as traitors, cast aside and into shallow graves to be killed. 

Furthermore, every devotee and worshiper of Velkuzat believes that any battle fought should be in His name. This does not mean that it must be honorable, or anything akin to that, but rather that defeat is an embarrassment to Him.

A splendid horde of treasure, dedicated to Velkuzat.

Standing before a deep pool of blood and gore, and beside a large collection of various foods, a humble servant of The Goat knelt and spoke a prayer out loud. “Velkuzat, hear my prayer, eat my food, enjoy my gifts. The fruit of my labor is yours, and in return I expect nothing. I offer this feast to you, o’ Lord.” Standing then, the servant pushed the food into the pool of blood.

The food quickly sunk into the blood. After a few moments, the substance began to boil, and as the bubbles began to break the surface, a simple rokodra weapon floated upwards. A gift from Him was received, an answer to the prayer, even when nothing was expected.

—

Those who devote themselves to Velkuzat will oftentimes begin to stockpile large quantities of food, books, and other rarities. At first, it may only be their favorite foods or readings that are kept, but eventually, it always expands to whatever the followers can get their hands on.

This belief stems naturally from the gluttony of The Goat, a constant thirst for knowledge, food, and other objects to display. Those with larger collections are seen as more prestigious, however the most faithful will oftentimes send their entire collections to Him as gifts. The story below tells of a famous collection and the objects within it.

Shortly before the Inferi war, a lone demonologist stood in a square room, surrounded by his extensive collection of artifacts. To the west of the woman was a collection of nearly all materials known to man, filled with starsteel, thanhium, azhl, and stolen paladin and druidic crystals. Gazing upon these, the woman spoke:

“Velkuzat, bless my metals so that I may forge mighty blades to slay all who oppose you..” 

Turning to the south, she saw many pelts from rare animals and beasts, some made of fur such as kha tails, scales of draconic beasts, hides of large monsters, and bodies of otherworldly entities. As the woman glanced across these, the light danced across them and changed color with a beautiful hue. Seeing these, the woman said: 

“Velkuzat, bless my hunts to be bountiful so that I may display your wealth and enjoy your feast.”

Next was the east, and upon its wall was a pile of goods, rightfully taken from those who had been slain in battle. Torn Haenseti flags, destroyed Orenian uniforms, chestplates split from those of Aegrothond, and even an orcish helm from a prior rex. The woman once more said another blessing:

“Velkuzat, bless the battlefields with plentiful loot, starved soldiers, chipped blades, and weakened armor.”

Finally, there was the northern wall, where multitudes of rare and exotic foods rested upon wooden shelves and the jars that sat upon them. Exotic berries of prior lands were perfectly preserved, fresh meat of recently hunted boar, and food enhanced with magical essence. The woman spoke one last prayer:

“Velkuzat, I offer my food to you and your followers, so that none may ever be starved.”

Finally, looking upwards towards the ceiling, the woman could see an immense assortment of books that filled all the shelves, rivaling even the collection of Haelun’or at the time. She spoke no prayer, as she knew a previous one had already been answered.

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OOC READ ME: 

[!] Strange disappearances began to take place throughout Aevos. Talks of their long lost family, abandoning all that they once possessed.

Amidst the mountains, wandered a poor, lone soul; that of a woman, oddly underlayered for such a harsh climate- fitting more a temperate climate than all. Her skin paled with the snow that accumulated around her form, her fingers hardly capable of curling anymore. Yet she persisted amidst the violent blizzard that enveloped her, her body threatening to fall upon every step.

She was consumed by grief, and grief alone.

Daughter . . .
Rang a whisper within her ears.

That very voice froze her form, eyes of grey rapidly examining her surroundings, devoid of any life, of any structure.

Do not hurt, my child.

Echoed that voice once more.

An odd warmth overtook her. A sense of comfort- one that pushed her to the end of her journey. A few more steps . . .

Mother…

The sun rose.

They rode. 

The Children of the Titan fairly cried out in exultation. They cast up their fists, sang in their tongue to the sky. They were a band of serpentine men, with serpentine tongues and serpentine eyes. Joined were they by the band of Ut'turvioth, his herald; and his many accomplices. 

And together, 

They rode. 

They rode for the city of the Pharaoh, Atemu-Ta. For he had declared war. And their honour demanded it be satiated. 

In their fortress, they had known the many traps that laid before them through a spy in the ranks of Atemu. All manner of potions, a trapped bridge, and columns of the temple meant to explode and collapse on them. And they were outmanned. That they were. 

The city of Pharaoh was in storm. Rain fell, thunder cried. 

Ut'torvioth, the leal brother of the An-Gho, was directed to take the wall while the An-Gho, and his other brave compatriots went to the temple wall. They had snuck there -- where the pharaoh and his bronze elves awaited. The battle was fierce, an exchange of arrows and spells. Sorcery was sung from deep voices by the Nephilim, they had cast up their hands, called out, weaved spears and orbs of brilliant flames. Lightning was called down. Psalms were sung. 

But an odious pact had been formed. Indirectly or not, the Pharaoh had made an unorthodox deal he would meant to exploit. 

The Gates had fallen. The Nephilim rushed down the aqueducts of the city to reach the temple. The soldiers of Atemu all lain slain or defeated. Prisoners were drawn in chains to Tor-Praeth by their lieutenant, Kairos. Those who were not taken met more miserable ends, though never so miserable as those left in the black cells. 

When the city itself had been taken, only the temple remained. Fire swept the streets. Blood drained down marble steps. Incantations swept the air with mad intensity. Line between Seen and Unseen were blurred. 

Only the temple. The blasted temple. With its cow-headed goddess. Hesthor. 

But a foul pact had been cast. He could barely remember. When he threw himself down into the temple with his burning sword, the An-Gho had been blasted, shrapnel and pieces of steel discharged from a cannon had sent him reeling. Then all was blur. He saw Urneilor brandishing his great flaming halberd against the bronze-elves like some hero of old. At the forefront, Vahlok, with mouth ablaze, struck blow after blow despite so many wounds.

Then something big slithered, something large took him. Something that wasn't alive. He thought he would lose consciousness - bask into death, lose his corporeal form. But then he heard it. And he woke. 

The laughter. 

Unmistakable. 

Gashadokuro. 

Gashadokuro!

Foul, wretched, red lisped lich!

Without knowing, the Pharaoh had made deals with an old orc that was only stolen skin. Beneath it lay a new king. One of red bones, and forbidden fire. Gashadokuro. The one who'd steal the throne from Iblees given the chance. 

When Gashadokuro laughed, all sense was lost. All was a blur. Screams. The smell of black sorcery. The feel of it. One could taste it in the air. The ring of steel. Cries. Pillars brought down by undead monstrosities. Raven's black sword shattered by a writhing tentacle. Urneilor wrestling and kicking a bronze-clad foe. 

Then he was being carried. No. Pushed. Vahlok before him was torn to shreds by a cannon driven before him. His frame was broken -- ash leaking from wounds, and was rendered into a pile of empty armour. He had been destroyed so he might persist. Strange, how he himself too was immortal -- but he supposed, it was a matter of honour. Of pride. No, his kin died that day from love. Not the empty one of romance, but one of friendship, kinship, and brotherhood. 

There was something warming in that fact, but the An-Gho never got to enjoy it. 

They ran. 

And they fled. 

They had reduced the city to chaos and disparity. They'd taken the streets, slaughtered where it was they went. But Gashadokuro had come, and stolen victory from their hands. 

And now not even the Pharaoh owned his streets. And neither did we. 

A herald was pulled down into the black depths. Another lost, another sacrifice. 

They gave the day to Gashadokuro. And so, unto the next. 

They rode. 

The sun fell. 

"I did not make silence that day. No. 

I made a storm.

Despite my broken body, 

I cannot wait for the next."

~The An-Gho