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The eyes of genesis


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The Vargr

Great fetid race

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Spoiler

 

 

Theirs was a sordid existence; creatures, parading as false men. 

They were things with the skins of men, with the eyes of men, the voices of men, but could they be called men ? To know, one must look at the soul. 

 

Appearances are deceiving. For though they might hide their smell, though they might shave endlessly and take care of their bodies to stow away its degeneration - their eyes betrayed an age that went beyond. And it was not that the varg should be old of body; rather, their eyes recall the age of the soul. And the soul goes back to genesis; to mad splintering, where all was made to be. The beginning of all things. 

 

A very important aspect of the vargr is their disposition to worship, to wield logic. Could there be no greater irony, for a creature that always hungers for the hearts of men? Though they are bestial, it is rare truly to find one not consumed by ideology, bent on finding ever slippery Truth. The fact of the matter lies in their genesis; their creation involves a brutish rite taking multiple days, and in its ultimate completion they are made witnesses of an act beyond comprehension, so much so that it shifts the soul, leaving them stranded, damned, and yet irrevocably lost to their newfound beliefs. These same beliefs they carry with terrifying purpose. Ask yourself, do they devour because they are monsters, or because they believe they do what is right? It is both. 

 

“We are not one !” screamed the monk “We are not one !” he wept

 

There is a debate amongst their kind, where they wonder if the World is truly divided in its current shape. If all things live on the body of the solitary God, are made of the flesh of that God, and think the thoughts of that God - can they truly say that their entire existence is not God ? Can they not look at all things and wonder ‘is this not the will of God’ ? Though any merit, any satisfaction these thoughts might have, the vargr can hardly abide by them, because the varg starves. Why does the monster hunger ? This is an ever-present debate among their kind. No matter the angle, the varg forever makes worship of his bloody actions. Many will gesture upon the masses and proclaim that their hearts are met with sin, and so their mind will follow; they will devour those who sin. To devour then is not the action of the monster; it is religion. The consumption of the human heart piles sin upon sin in their stomachs - so that they might find satisfaction, knowing that they cleanse the heart and the spirit by that mad dogma. And so it was, that mothers would warn their children to make their prayers, to not lie, and to eat their soup - lest the things from the woods take them, and make altar of their desecrated corpse. 

 

Because sin itself can be flexed, it can be changed and moulded. It can be used. Sin is not physical, it is metaphysical, until of course, the varg claims that its bestial form is nothing but sin made physical. Why else would they only grow more distorted as they devoured, and so piled sin on themselves? Sin, plainly, does not exist, but it is nonetheless perceived and moves others as it moves the varg. And that very fact, is enough to grant that idea form. Therein, sin exists only in those moments where it is believed, when it shapes the actions of others. 

 

Sin is only perceived. Sin is an idea, and the only true that can be said about the vargr, the thing that makes them more, is the fact that the varg is an idea. It is a symbol of all things made old, a vicious vengeance, a darkness amongst the woods, and a shadow in the hearts of all men. Turning each and all to ash will not wipe that idea; for they will remain. As long as fear, as long as hunger, as long as hope and dogma remain - the fake men, who hide with their flesh, will exist. And they will never be sated. 

 

Incapable of dying, and their souls incapable of passing - the vargr use the events preceding their birth into a human shell as reasoning that they are in fact forlorn to the mortal realm, and bound to it. This has led to a search for many of the artifacts of their primeval inception, amidst them, the Astral Grimoire, in the hopes of one day returning home.  

 

“Karcosa ! Karcosa !” screamed the idea, locked in flesh. 

 

Stranded, desperate, and starving, the vargr is alone. He weeps because is he lost, and cannot go home. He screams because he must tear the descendants apart. And most of all he is wracked with anguish because there is an I, and there is a You. All things are not one. And what is more; the pieces of their god make war to one another. What greater hell could there be ? And so the varg come to the conclusion that there in fact is a solution, that if indeed their stomachs go without end - then they might as well have space to devour the very World. 

 

Then only, will they be one.

 

Spoiler

Disclaimer: none of this information is available IRP. Treat this as a showcase of this creature's inner complexity. Throwback to the 3 hour long debates between me and callisto about varg deep lore. 

 

I should also note that varg players are actively looking for new members, as always. 


 

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A shoal of darkness enveloped an aging man in wavering shadow, upon which streaks of fire approached defiant, only to cower back and dissipate. In the absenceness of warmth and mind, this man revelled in a peace meted out only by the forsaken cold. Indeed, his state of being was a call to an age immemorial, whence Man was unruptured by his borrowed wisdom, and the fickle want to challenge instinct. They roamed a sunless earth knowing and true to their firstborn purpose, with mind only for the continuity of body and clarity in being.

 

They were not beasts, with ravaging dissent for all that is living - nor were they wronged men, despiseful of all manner and scruple, as lore had unrightly deemed; but they were the true Man, as Man was firstly created upon the dawn of darkness, within the glory of an age that had spurned light and its gangraneous influence. And Man, as genesis had him, was guided by unerring instinct. He was guided by that which was pure and raw; which confessed no unnatural bias, nor hatred, nor malice. And how could the heart know and concede to hatred, if it forgate all semblance of duality and deferred only to the originality of the World - of genesis, and of singularity? Without duality, hatred is the rule, and cannot even be defined evil without benevolence in reign.

 

They are not beasts who merely relent to their accord, as willed by God, and are the progeny of the ancient Man. But they are beasts who forsake their origin, break the seal of predation, and through the mastery of stolen flame and wisdom, seek to make themselves in blasphemy akin with God. Such is the sin of the Modern Man, and such are the grounds under which they must be deemed prey, hunted, and solemnly felled, with their blood rightfully let for all the earth to see. If the transition from Man to Beast owes its advent to the Sin of Abandonment, then all sin will be tarnished and devoured. The earth will be upturned, and so-called beasts - Vargyr - will stand as Martyrs upon the corpses of those whom they hunt - who are true beasts, tainted by their ignorant sin. And so Vargyr walk their unceasing path, to shoulder and consume the sins of the World and be sacrificially shaped by it (et. Metamorphosis), for only then shall the Modern Man grow wings of blood with which to rejoin divinity and depart an earth then riddled by death.

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Somewhere, overlooking the southern coast, a man smiled through sobs as the world continued to turn but beauty still held within suffering and torment of mankind.

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