Swgrclaŋ

THE PREACHER came before the Barad-Khor, visage and identity hidden under the shroud and shadow of black robings. He carried with him a dear and secret promise, plucked from forebears who could not bear to rejoin a covenant long since altered and mutated from its vengeful shape of origin. The gates swung forth for his passage, and phantoms danced to welcome him, the nameless and the one-eyed; and he soon he stood at the epicenter of a throned spectre whose seat the Preacher knew was once a man. Words were had that few were present to hear; and by the time the legion of horribles came in congregation for blood-rite, the things said between the Barrowlord and the Preacher were lost in the chaos to all but themselves. Promises were made, suggestions of purification and salvation at the end of the road that the children of Xion must walk and, at all times, struggle upon against forces that would disrupt and draw them away from an ancient ordainment of celestial vengeance. Then... the ring. Symbol of a secret pact, one of mercy rather than aid. Long may you hold the ring, saith the Preacher, who sought nothing in exchange among these whom he held a strange and unclear relation to. In the hands of the Barrowlord Khor, before the eyes and eyeless gazes of the living and the damned, the Ring of the Preacher's Promise radiated the light of his Wighted mind that burned brightly even now beneath layers of soul misshapen by transformation and dark-spirited ritual. The oath of the ring was revealed in its two parts... the first, which may be ascertained by even monstrous destroyers; and the second, legible only to those who can create life. The Preacher said ...

This can be appreciated for showing new ways of how a Sorvian can metamorphose, but it should be noted that everything you list here is essentially already possible. The list of metamorphosis effects you showed as references were themselves only examples and not codifications, as a the feature is inherently freeform and differences could be found even between two hypothetical Djinn or even mundane cultural groups irregardless of the similarity of their domain. If this were to pass, I imagine this would just add to the group of examples.

In the many cities of the land, with the sole exception of the realm of Koyo-Kurai, there roams-to an awkward and mask-faced creature adorned entirely in a long and black robe, with a tall pointed hood so far-reaching upward that it was scarcely believable its wearer did not often topple over in imbalance. This were the Sorvian known as Evil-Eye; moreso in fact, the Sorvian Newt Evil-Eye, paired with two others of his small and infantile brothers in such a way that they were stacked threewise beneath the black shroud as to feign or mimick the appearance of a upright standing man. It was a cunning trick, but at the very least for better reasons than being adversarial. He, or they, came to speak to the people of the land. This was the recital, given unto every folk in nearly every city that would not deposit them into fire or otherwise grim or destructive fate - and for those that did, did so in futility, as upon the passage of the same day of their doom would the three-Newt assembly return toward other locales freshly remade and ignorant of prior decimation. [ Narration ] “Hear me... Look upon me and hear my words. It is so that there are those in the land known as the Sorvian Sculptors, and they are indeed many and variable among the Descendant tribes, and we have indeed been watching them since the days of Du-Loc. We have observed their works and the outcome of their works, we have measured their temperament and their intentions both in word and action; we have witnessed surges of creation and then relaxations into inactivity, repeating patterns without guidance, without energy of higher and more just causes than servile whims. Hear me, hear me speak of causes more just and righteous than those whims. Listen and know… of the Sacred Anatomancers. Learn, now, that we are aspirants of a Creatorial unity… that ours is an organization long-standing and traditional in matters of birthing life from self-sacrificial synthesis, the rudimentary method through which life may be born. And is this not known in all corners of this continent and the ones prior? Are Sorvians not found among nearly every society, from the Church of Canon to the Norlandic Allfather Temple, to the cradles of Elven nations? Indeed… even the Land-Dragons of Azdromoth are united with the Knights of Dead Xan in this, both of them equally noble producers of Sorvian creatures who are full-fledged in their dedication to either clan’s cause. And that is the thread of unity the Anatomancers capture… that unity, a creator’s neutrality housed within the Third Temple due to come to form beneath the Valley Ki-an. It is in us, the Anatomancers, that there lies the will to unite every Sorvian and every Sculptor within one divine house of the highest craft. Let there be enemies, diametric foes, who come forth together in our halls and shake hands as friends under the premise of the Sacred Anatomancy. Let all evil impulses bleed away in the Third Temple so that the spirit of the Creator may take their place, and with so little as blood drops and self-sacrificed anima, produce life that may flourish and act upon entirely independent accords. Let it be so that we do not pray to idols in the Third Temple; only that we create, and never destroy. So come forth - come forth soon to the Valley Ki-an, where a grand spire marks that spot of the earth we shall dig into. Come to learn, or join, or both. Identify us by the black robes, by our hoods much like spires themselves. And be welcome… among Sorvians and Sorvian Sculptors, united.” [ Temple Theme ] [ If you are a Sorvian or a Sorvian Sculptor or other Construct and are interested in a centralized group meant to delve into Construct and Construct creation RP, find us in the Valley of Kian, following these coordinates: x 2116, y 92, z 60. ]

In the time of developing the rewrite, I had it in mind to be resistant to efforts to spread the Construct limb replacement trend to the Sorvian domain, but discussion about this lore with my close constituent @Hawkeye_Goughmade this appear more appealing than it initially seemed. It didn't or doesn't seem like the right kind of artform to produce useful and pragmatic limb replacements on account of the fragility, but your lore carries on with the concept despite that fact and as a result aligns more with the spirit of Sorvians overall, which is a basis of creation-based roleplay that does not need to consider if it would be balanced in CRP scenarios or not. So, if someone chooses to use this, they will be facing the consequences of being weaker, but I think that is a fair price to pay for the cultural and aesthetic usefulness this offers.

[ Narration ] Standing before the bonfire and pale tree central to the city of Aelwen lies the alloyed man LOGOS, who speaks to the people as they pass and as they rest. Here the light of the fire shines greatly upon his bald and polished head, invoking an almost torchlike glare and reflection which may more easily draw eyes his way. He genuflects and gestures as he speaks, and always is his metal expression stern and thoughtful, and looks upon the people eyelessly and yet sees them all before him with the most perfect clarity. Here, he speaks. The subject, was creation. “Hear me, Aelwen, hear me. I speak to you now as the unstruck iron nears the loss of its red heat. The time is still opportune in the infancy of this place which some whisper to be Malinor-Reborn, home of all Elves, to uplift it to heights previously unknown, cradled in the arms of empire, rebuilt upon ashes of Haelun-Or which had been burned to purge it of ill humors and tainted notions. Voca Et Videm; those are the words of this day. It means “we call it as we see it”, and I shall take first charge in identifying the maladies that plague the continent which may be treated with the salve of rightful Aelwennic intuition, intrigue, and unity. Hear me, now, as I call it as I see it. We know there are already the corpses of cities and states in the land; placed at remarkable distances for security of territory or otherwise, the continent is bepopulate with towns dwelled only by ghosts and silence, and already does this curse rear its head for our home. There must be a shortening of the way. We know that all men thrive on bread and water, or meat when he is graced by good hunting, and that for lack of its abundance the common banditry are so willing even to deprive others of their food-bags and thus their energy needed to conquer and tame this land we have been driven to from the place behind Kalldur, already fading from memory. There must be feasts lent to every man. We know there is war, there is ideological and socioreligious conflict. We know the people of all races except perhaps for humanity are divided, and see no just cause to bind themselves together into their original Four-Brother nations - the Elves especially, and the High Elves the martyr of this fact. We must mend the ties between Elves and foster them beneath one nation, to right old wrongs and forge new rights. There must be peace in the woodland of Malin. Hear me and consider my calculations. I have read and absorbed without need for sleep a thousand historical perspectives, as well as mine which I have lived to experience, and from my evaluations I seek only to repair what is broken. We must call things as they are, and recognize that all things around us have become worse as time has gone on, and rarely better. More evils are born in the shadow of the Descendants than miracles. We have seen what the will of a mortal is capable of; I have been born by the very same notions. Let us see many five-fingered Elven hands reach for a golden age in Aelwen with that same miraculous will. To the Wizards of the Big Hat Society, to the mages of Aelwen not yet ushered beneath our wing, hear me: let us create the shortening of the way. Let us forge arcane doors through which unfathomable gaps may be crossed, so the layman and the lord may both equally and easily traverse to the Aelwennic realm. Let every man of every race find value in such portals, bringing with them their patronage and good will and desire for presence among fellow mortals. And when such a portal proves itself useful - let us place a portal in every city beyond us, so that Aelwen becomes a nexus or crossroads powered by the genius of wizards committed and invested in the wellbeing of the world. To the Druids of the Sun Circle, hear me. In your grasp lies the undeniable mastery over the natural world, and ears to hear and listen to voices the common man cannot. Here, in Aelwen, you have allowed me to walk uncontested though your more ancient predecessors, and other circles would impose upon you every reason for my destruction. Allow me to reward you for your patience in elucidating the miracles of bounty and harvest you may bring to our city - if not already within your intentions. Solely in your hands lies the power to turn Aelwen into the breadbasket of the world, so flooded with wheat that food itself becomes without cost in every nation. Let our land brim with crops and beasts given fair and quiet conditions for their prosperity and hunting. Feed every mouth with your power, and see how all men shall be ushered behind our walls in good and loving visitation. And to our most ideal leader, the Prince Adriel as he is known, I tell you - rule as you have been. You walk the walk of the High Prince Native. You do not dwell in the shadow of him but rather parallel to his memory, he who held the Elves together as one in Malinor, in Aegis. I beseech you, hear my words and aid me in uplifting our folk and our orders. Break down any walls between forces brought into our city, erase all diametric opposition where it emerges like an evil ghost. Let us create the City of Miracles where before there was only the City of Bedlam. Let us be as the Creator, and create.”

There should be less incentive for any revealing methods to be able to detect Descendant sorcerer characters in the first place. This amendment is in the right direction, but really should suggest the removal of the gleam reveal effect for mortal Mystics overall. The candle is better applicable to actual undead entities, and not just the practitioners. The rarity or means to obtain it wouldn't necessarily matter in this case.

THERE are pillars that begin to appear erected in the outerlying reaches of the newly borne domain of Aelwen, carved primarily of stone and adjacent materials. Each pillar lacked refinement, instead infused with a distinct planned obsolescence, for not long after their proximal investigation whether by sorcerer or layman each primitive structure collapses, and reduces to dust and fragments the message previously etched into them. Those keen to inspect from a distance could discern that these obelisks, stacked in cylindrical and seemingly uneven layers, were so carefully balanced by whoever left them in these places that the slightest local motion of bodies acted as enough of a direct butterfly effect to cause their crumbling in a span of three to five minutes - a subtle metaphor for the impermanence of Voidal Evocations, and the riddlesome mark of an arcane society. The following message was inscribed on each pillar in spiraling, enveloping carvings; and for every pillar that was erected, read, and then allowed to collapse, another would be raised in another part of the outskirts the following day, until in the closure of the week they would appear no longer. This is the First Transmission. "THE MAN IS NOT WHAT HE SEEMS; THOUGH HE IS MANYFOLD IN FORM, ALL SOULS LIKE HIS FUNCTION LIKE AN IMMATERIAL KEYHOLE, AND IT IS HIS SHEER WILLPOWER AND MIND THAT ACTS AS THE KEY TO UNFOLD NOT ONLY THE RIGHT TO POWER AND ARCANE MASTERY, BUT ALSO TO BE GAINFUL OF A SCALE THAT OUGHT BE RIGHTLY BALANCED, OR ELSE INCUR CONSEQUENCES FOR FATES WORSE THAN DEATH SUCH AS BEEN THE WAY OF THINGS: MAGES IN IMBALANCE, WITHOUT THE GUIDANCE OF GOD NOR CREED NOR NOTION OF DISCIPLINE, WHERE THEY HAVE FAILED TO EVEN SEE THE SCALE IN THEIR HANDS SO FIND ME, MAGES, IN AELWEN - FIND THE LOGOS, THE SYMBOL, WHO MAY ELUCIDATE TO YOU THE MAN WHO FIRST SET THE BALANCE, AND GAINED THE NAME TRISMEGISTUS BEFORE TWO OTHERS KNOWN" [ For wizardly players seeking arrangement with the Big Hat Society, contact @Johannand @Swgrclaŋfor scheduling. ]

... The pull of the telekinetic spell lands the missive in the alloyed fingers of LOGOS indeed, who in the chamber of thought would oblige May's suggestion to study and then engage the nameless perfidious sorcerer in this traditional act of noticeboard-based debate. After spending an hour holding the mysterious tipped hat missive as close to his hollow metal eye sockets as possible to ensure maximal evaluation, and then turns the page upside-down and dedicates another three hours to discerning if hidden messages or code laid somewhere backwards, just to make sure everything about the wizard's note was understood. It was only after this that LOGOS produced his own reply below the original letter that May replied to, nailed neatly next to her own to denote a joined statement. "Salutations. I am LOGOS. Your indirect attempt to initiate debate with the Big Hat Society is appreciated no matter the means or medium to do so, and will be obliged here if only to reinforce previous statements by my constituents and makers to join us in Aelwen for debate in the house of thought. I will address your points hoping that the limitation of our communication method will convince you to visit. Before any other point is made, it must be established that the Big Hat Society's philosophical and ideological acknowledgement and respect for the Creator is reliant on just more than faith in him. It is based in the fact that greater and intelligent design is evident in the world we live in, experience and grapple with every day; and that there are laws and limitations that must be understood and adhered to not only to respect the establishment of the Canonist Church but also to preface all arcane actions and commitments with a precautionary and practical point of view. Notions that the Creator was not a higher entity defy sense in how existence has been made to order itself around us, and if this is not taken as fundamental fact, the subgradient nature of reality becomes lost from focus. This is to say, it is impossible to suggest a man or mortal sorcerer was responsible for everything around us and all of its unusual and yet-known laws when mortal limitations and the Descendant condition could not allow for such a figure to exist. There are many cases of arcane and also non-Voidal mortal ascendancy; all of them are resultant in some form of aberration that, while they were gainful in power, they had lost the true shape they had been born with, and therefore would have lost the vital perspective necessary for ideal Creation. Under your point of view, the Descendants would be forced to accept that the maker of reality is not only fallible for having been a self-same man as them, but also that he would have to sacrifice his humanity for the power to conjure Creation. In doing so, Creation could not exist in the form we know it to take; so perfect that it is even capable of tolerating aberration or malformation of its ontological rules when they exhibit signs that they are of a negative disposition toward the condition and health of our universe. Negative disposition is the key term, for everything about a maker is poured into his makings, and not just his intention. Moreover, neither would a Voidal Horror bear such higher understanding to shape Creation - they are driven by an impulse to undo Creation, to consume it, and for a thing to be instinctually compelled to do so could not muster neither the power nor the creationary mindset to incite a functional reality. There is no order within a Voidal Horror that would allow them to first control themselves, and second discern a supreme design from which all other things descend from. How could an entity diametrically opposed to an ordered reality be responsible for its construction? What's more - where would souls themselves have come from? There is a soul within every sorcerer alive and there is no core or engine that has been fashioned by mortal hands equal to the force that allowed them to create such things in the first place. Our engagement of magic is practical. It is anchored in an awareness of mortal fallibility. Historical record shows the result of all mortal acts of grand sorcery more likely than not result in tragedy that the mortal race and reality itself fall victim to. Consider the Ando-Alur Incident; consider the haphazard utilization of Voidal Nodes by mages without creed, without rules, without reckoning of the consequences of failure in the handling of forces that arrive beyond the confines of Creation, which has in occurrence ostracized sorcerers from the rest of their kinsmen through time. I will say to you now, you exhibit much of the nature of the Arcane Mage; there is not much Availer within you as a wizard. You fall on one side of the scale of sorcerous duality when both sides of the scale, of both Creationary discipline and Voidal intuition, must be regarded by a mage to properly balance them - to avoid being confined entirely to doctrine as you accuse us to be, but also to avoid being consumed by the idea of personal limitlessness. Come and join us and I will measure you on my scale of determination. We will recognize the power you have at your disposal, but we will also grant you the ill omens seen in your disposition. Signed, LOGOS"

LOGOS ruminates after the events of his return. He is busied with the advanced specifications and plans of twin statues meant for some place within the Society's domain, such papers scattered across the specific wing dedicated to their order. "As above, so below," He said to no one.

Yes

WRITTEN in the failing hands of the one most vested in out-and-introspection and relayed by a grounded jungle bird tamed to simultaneously write missives, act as courier and speak Flexian without meaning or divine exactitude, be this morse-coded message meant for those among the Big Hat Society, makers of the perfidious Thinking Machine that calls upon them now: “(SALUTATIONS) ... .- .-.. ..- - .- - .. --- -. ... (BIG HAT SOCIETY) -... .. --. / .... .- - / ... --- -.-. .. . - -.-- (YOU ARE CALLED UPON) -.-- --- ..- / .- .-. . / -.-. .- .-.. .-.. . -.. / ..- .--. --- -. (BY YOUR MAKINGS, STILL LIVING) -... -.-- / -.-- --- ..- .-. / -- .- -.- .. -. --. ... --..-- / ... - .. .-.. .-.. / .-.. .. ...- .. -. --. (TO EXORCISE AN OLD SPIRIT) - --- / . -..- --- .-. -.-. .. ... . / .- -. / --- .-.. -.. / ... .--. .. .-. .. - (WHOSE NATURE IS MOST SUITED TO YOU) .-- .... --- ... . / -. .- - ..- .-. . / .. ... / -- --- ... - / ... ..- .. - . -.. / - --- / -.-- --- ..- (SO YOU MAY UNRAVEL THE SECRETS OF THE PAST) ... --- / -.-- --- ..- / -- .- -.-- / ..- -. .-. .- ...- . .-.. / - .... . / ... . -.-. .-. . - ... / --- ..-. / - .... . / .--. .- ... - (AND PUT RIGHT OLD SUBJECTIVE MORAL TRANSGRESSIONS) .- -. -.. / .--. ..- - / .-. .. --. .... - / --- .-.. -.. / ... ..- -... .--- . -.-. - .. ...- . / -- --- .-. .- .-.. / - .-. .- -. ... --. .-. . ... ... .. --- -. … (SEEK THE WHITE ROSE) ... . . -.- / - .... . / .-- .... .. - . / .-. --- ... . (HE IS NOT WHO HE SEEMS) .... . / .. ... / -. --- - / .-- .... --- / .... . / ... . . -- …” Below the bird assistant’s nearly ineligible interpretation of code is an equally rough map-like depiction of the “Blue Forest”, deep into the west of the continent, where Voidal intrusion is rooted in the earth. At the bottom of the page, in finality, is a more refined sketch of a horn-helmeted warrior, the barest visual aid possible as though conceived with one hand. No details indicate the location of the Thinking Machine … [Player-driven event for the ‘Big Hat Society’ community, planned for Saturday, November 29th [11/29/25]; player participation capped at 5 maximum. This post serves as a guild record and as a private missive to only the relevant parties, meaning it cannot be learned without their IC consultation]

This is the One.

"My pain is constant and sharp and I do not hope for a better world for anyone. In fact, I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no one to escape, but even after admitting this, there is no catharsis. My punishment continues to elude me and I gain no deeper knowledge of myself. No new knowledge can be extracted from my telling. This confession has meant nothing."

RINGKNIGHTS OF THE ROUNDTABLE [ Inquisitor Lore ] Kain and the Elamite Ringknights of the Immaculate Tower in their full glory, with Elam-Ilir as their centerpiece. The history of man is written in his blood. Here lies a glimpse of those who took up arms at the beckoning of Tahariae, who has seen and suffered through the eyes of mortal and immortal. Character Overview Ten Lambent Rings were forged in the white flame without shadow; four for the Amalekites, five for the Elamites, and one for Elam. These are the stories of each keeper of rings. In total, the ten individuals apart of this list belong to the Roundtable of Tahariae, unified in their mission to purge the earth of impure influences. The Roundtable of Tahariae is the first of its kind, equivalent to a central knightly chapter capable of branching out to create other roundtables in other lands. EA-IR-AHAT, SAINT OF COMPASSION "Heed me, my broken brethren; hear my words. You will only ever gain your purity again at your own volition. I see in the stars above my mountain that the actors of Creation will always keep you in bondage without salvation, and that the darkness within will be your destruction. Walk the walk of compassion with me - follow me back to the roots of our world." Ea-ir-Ahat is the centerpiece of the history of the Inquisitors, the mortal incarnation of the Lord of Purity who had divested himself of the divine stag and cast it down upon the earth so that it may become the promeathen flame to bring salvation to Descendant mankind. He was created after the stag had struck the top of a mountain spire like a falling star, noticed first by the four-cursed Amalekites who had been struggling in the shadow of Descendant glory ever since the day that Aegis had fallen into the dark caesura of the world. When the barbarian king Amalek and his people hurried to see the fallen stag atop the mountain, they found it dormant and thought it had been dead. They spent seven days and seven nights trying to draw out the divine blood of the sleeping beast, who would not rouse to any call or black sorcery in their possession. But when the Amalekite king's consort, a captured human woman by name of Mohiam, had been driven in desperation to appease her lord, she sacrificed his unborn heir that their sorcerers had already prophesized to be the long awaited hero and salvation of their kind. The rage of Amalek had been abated only by the results rendered by this act, among the most unholy of all acts in Creation, which finally roused the fallen stag from its peaceful sleep. In one moment there laid the stag, and in the next moment a light that radiated like the very sun; and when the whole host of the Amalekites, only Ea-ir-Ahat remained standing in its place. It became their belief in that very instant that their long anticipated hero had come to save them, but in truth, this was merely Tahariae's amnesiac mortal incarnation, burdened unexpectedly by the still-present soul of the sacrificed unborn in his heart. The four-cursed soul and the pure heart of the stag became one within this man, unaware of his true purpose and already grown from the moment of his emergence. But most important of all was his powerlessness; two opposing forces bound so tightly in their adversarial design that the mortal result rendered Ea-ir-Ahat completely mundane in his capabilities, unable to draw upon the darkness of his shadow below him just as he was unable to bargain for the light of the Aengudaemonica above him. Perfectly in the center by accident, this was Ea-ir-Ahat: just a man. In the five years of his life before the destructive arrival of the crusading Elamites, he lifted the Amalekites up from their horrid barbarity and confusion, and despite all influence stemming from their four curses of Iblees, and committed an entire portion to them to the Cult of Compassion. Unconsciously embodying Tahariae's compassion that he sacrificed in the Stagfall, Ea-ir-Ahat refused to treat the condemned and the forsaken with the hatred and judgement of his heavenly father, determined to guide them toward some way where the Amalekites could purify themselves on their own terms. This never came to pass before their doom arrived. When the final stages of Amalekite genocide commenced, it was because of Ea-ir-Ahat's willing sacrifice to birth a power he eventually realized he was host to. In his self-imposed destruction, he sought to gift the world this purifying flame that beat alongside the pulse of his mortal heart, and most of all a final chance for the redemption of his brethren. Despite this, his demise and transformation into the first Lambent Flame of Tahariae atop the mountain triggered suspicion among both sides of the conflict, who each would blame the other for the death of the saint. It was only when Elam heard the voice of the Lord of Purity from the flame-without-shadow, freshly woken from his long sleep, that he realized that Ea-ir-Ahat was indeed an incarnation all along, and that in their confusion things had been done that could never be reversed. No man beyond this land would be allowed to know of the atrocities set upon the Amalekites, for it would become the foundation of the first Immaculate Tower and a city that would stand the test of time before the trials of an impure world. AMALEK, FOUR-CURSED KING "Never would I ever... forgive your lowly kind." Amalek is the barbarian king of the Amalekites, who took his name as their own when his glory was proven before the cruelty of the world. Prior to his reign, he overcame the corrupt cunning and evil nature of those who ruled the Amalekites before they were Amalekites, divided by their simpleton wardlording interests exacerbated by the four curses that beat in their heart. Through sheer brutality he destroyed them utterly, and then when his people sought to surge against them, he struck them into submission for being the only thing they would truly understand. Claiming lordship thereafter, he would mimic the true Descendants in their migratory nature, and lead them through the world in hope to find a place where they may finally settle, regain their strength, repel their foes, and break these curses that bound them. Leading them toward the direction of where the Stagfall had landed, he conspired among his dark sorcerers and shamans to discern a way to make use of the dormant divine stag of Tahariae, completely unaware of its true nature and origin. When nothing worked, he desired to kick the stag into the abyss of the sea whose shores laid near his new mountainous domain, but was instead sent into a blind rage when his captured consort Mohiam sacrificed their unborn heir to draw a reaction from the dormant stag. This was abated only by the appearance of Ea-ir-Ahat, whose very sight brought peace and love to the mind of Amalek who believed him to be his son in earnest and the completion of his plans to leave behind an even greater leader after his own eventual demise. Amalek was the first to embrace the incarnation of Tahariae, and the first to receive his compassion. When the Elamites came in five years time, they had been met by Amalekites that had been greatly bolstered and uplifted by the paired wisdom of their stag-born saint and wise warrior king. Though still primitive, Amalek had instructed his ragged legions in such a way as to allow them to conquer all nearby tribes and monstrosities within a hundred mile radius, and this honed his warriors to such a degree that the Elamites struggled sincerely despite their advantage of plate armor and steel weaponry over these mongrel men who knew no fear and could kill their knights with rocks and spears and blind frontal charges into battle lines. Despite this, the Elamites outmatched them in preparation and strategy, and no matter how many ceasefires Ea-ir-Ahat called for, no amount of recuperation could allow the Amalekites to cope with their losses. When his alleged son destroyed himself to birth the flame of Tahariae, Amalek came upon the top of the mountain to find Elam standing before the brazier that held Ea-ir-Ahat's burning body, and suspected him of committing the most horrible of all murders. In his unhinged rage, the Four-Cursed King set upon Elam-Ilir and nearly bested him, nearly pushed him to unfurl the sword of Sylvaen that had been the first blade to kinslay any other mortal in history. But the emergence of other forces atop the mountain forced Amalek into a retreat, abandoning his people who burned in piles beneath the shadow of the mountain. Even his elder brother Kain and the Cult of Compassion betrayed him, all of them believing him to be the murderer, and for this reason Amalek fled only so he may gain one more chance to exact his vengeance. To gain a power somewhere in the world so he may once again return to the chosen homeland of his dead people and destroy what was built atop their sacrifice. Not because it was the right thing to do, or because he sought to usurp Elam-Ilir to regain his kingdom, but because he could never allow the cycle of vengeance to go uncompleted. He would never forgive their lowly kind. THE SIX ELAMITES The Six Elamites are the original leaders of Tahariae’s new crusade across the world, each adorned with the first Lambent Rings forged by Elam-Ilir. Elam promised purifying rebirth to each of his generals at the behest of his lord in exchange for their victorious assembly of the Immaculate Towers of Tahariae. ANCIENT ELAM-ILIR Elam-Ilir is the leader of the Elamite Inquisition, composed of followers of Tahariae’s mission. He is known to be well over a thousand years old and that he had “resisted” the madness that typically occurs in his kind at that point. His origin is a mystery and he makes no reference from where he first hailed from. Elam was responsible for gathering worthy champions into his crusade upon the Amalekites. He was the first to receive visions that revealed the Stagfall and the location of its impact, and spent four years tracking down new companions to reorganize and reinspire their convictions, and then a final year leading them to the Amalekite mountain. The Amalekites were the first significant foe of the Elamite crusaders, and were driven into genocide for tampering with the destiny of the Stagfall. They were a hideous and divergent race of Descendants that survived through interbreeding, causing the whole of their dwindling population to become four-cursed; short-lived, infertile, greedy and violent. After their victory over the primitives, Elam-Ilir used the Lambent Flame borne of Ea-ir-Ahat, the divinely blooded martyr of the Amalekites, to create the first ten Lambent Rings of power, giving them to his most trusted and proven generals as well as himself. Promising his generals they would be given rebirth in exchange for the erection of more Immaculate Towers, he scattered his forces in different directions and remained in the Tower of Sacrifice to oversee the mountain’s reconstruction and expansion into a domain of earthly purity. Elam-Ilir is known as a master practitioner of stoicism, and is so devoid of emotional expression and empathy that it led to his followers suspecting this to be subtle evidence that he indeed experienced his thousand year madness. This personal quality was nonetheless instrumental in the strategic command of the Elamites, as Elam-Ilir did not once express fear or hesitation at any stage of the conflict. The sole weapon in Elam’s possession is believed to be the broken form of “The Sword”, or an ancient Daemonic artifact of terrible power responsible for the first kinslaying between Elves after having been forged by Sylvaen, son of Malin. With this weapon in his possession, he sought to use it as sacrificial kindling for the first tower, but was forced to keep it when Ea-ir-Ahat burned instead. He has never sated the weakened blade’s bloodlust, as he keeps it heavily wrapped in bandages, and always opts to bludgeon people into submission with it than to slay them. The Tower of Sacrifice The Tower of Sacrifice is the first of all Immaculate Towers, unique from all others in that it was never built but rather made out of a mountain spire that acted as the impact point of the divinely sent Stagfall. Elam-Ilir aspired for the construction of Divine City Khamaaloth, which would rest at the base of the mountain-tower, forever blanketed with the perpetual day cast by the first tower’s ceaseless flame. The flame atop the first tower was not borne of the war and misery that had come to pass under its shadow, but rather by the loving sacrifice of the saintly Ea-ir-Ahat, who could not bear the genocide of his primitive accursed people. Elam-Ilir is the second to have found him burning in a brazier atop the mountain, immediately believing the barbarian king Amalek to have committed this act for the sake of turning the tide of the land’s gruesome conflict. It is for suspecting the same reason of Elam that Amalek met him in a duel of the fates before the firmament and the flame, and fled when he could not outmatch the far more ancient warrior, fleeing elsewhere in desperation to find some means to return Ea-ir-Ahat, who he believed to be his son, back to life. The Tower of Sacrifice and the divine city built beneath it were made to become one of the most secure and miraculous bastions of mortal power in the world after the victory of the Elamites over the Amalekites, never to be ruled by a king but rather by the wise mayoral administration of Makathir the Silverbane and the esoteric guidance of Elam-Ilir, who at all times would sit before the tower-flame in solitary to glean more truth of purity from the fire-without-shadow. MUTED MEMNOS & LEGLESS LAUDANUM Two Orc twins, born to a savage tribe that revered the growth of tusks and horns. Despite the sanctity they placed in these features, their primitive eugenics led to deformities in both brothers in that Memnos was born with overwhelming facial tusks that rendered his speech indiscernible and that Laudanum’s legs grew horns that bent and malformed his bones, rendering him immobile, but also tuskless and well spoken. They were shunned and exiled by their tribe for these deformities, forced to rely on each other to survive. While Memnos used his brutish strength to carry Laudanum around, Laudanum used his silver tongue in vital trades with villages and other tribes that allowed him to secure ingredients for a serum that dulled the pain Memnos gained from his tusks. Only able to communicate with hand gestures, they were desolate and waylaid by the world until Elam found them, and taught Laudanum how to understand his brother’s warped words. He invested higher purpose in the two brothers, and they heeded his call for war upon the Amalekites. Both Memnos and Laudanum are known to be wiser than the whole tribe they hailed from, and are appreciated for the wisdom that Memnos whispers to his brother whom speaks his words. Though both are cursed with bloodlust, Memnos suffers it the worst, which compelled Laudanum to calm his brother with gentle prayers to Tahariae meant to put his brother to sleep during fits of murderous rage. The Tower of Silence The brothers, sent out from Khamaaloth, were responsible for the erection of the Tower of Silence and the destruction of a serpentine Mani that aspired to usurp its own Aspect creators. Using its bloody snakeskin as fuel for their Immaculate Tower, they remain there now and are known to brutalize foreign Druidic envoys and Fae that seek their territory after feeling the Mani’s death from a distance. The Mani Serpent was once known as Akalakhorakon, King of Serpents, gainful of maddening size and power after the cannibal consumption of a thousand different snake species and a thousand mortal men before the witness of his divine makers. Once worshiped by foreign Druids who were deluded in believing that the Great Serpent was a fifth Aspect incarnate, it was not difficult for Akalakhorakon to trick them into aiding his efforts of ascent to the Fae Realm, whose masters he craved to not only usurp but also devour. By the time Memnos and Laudanum and their Inquisitorial host found the jungled land that housed these omens, Akalakhorakon had already slain a solitary dragon whose sought out that place to roost, and conducted rituals with his druids that would seal the wings of the dragon to the body of the snake. If not for the rampage of the Orcish brethren, Akalakhorakon would have perhaps done so and lifted himself beyond the world to exact his corrupt intentions upon the Fae Realm. In the aftermath of a short-lived war, Akalakhorakon was utterly smashed to death, his followers crucified, and his bones grinded down into a powder to mix with the mortar they would use for the erection of a new Immaculate Tower. They conducted their rituals to birth a new flame atop that tower, using the vast skin and blood torn from the failed aspirant snake-god as fuel. RHUNON THE GOLDEN Only Rhunon remains as the last of a Dwarven culture known as the Rhandites, so consumed by the curse of greed that they poured all notions of innovation into becoming the very object of their desires - gold. The Rhandites, more like a cult than a lineage, practiced an alchemical craft analogous to Automaton-making, but rather than focus entirely on creating men out of machine parts, they would aspire to replace every inch of their own biological design with dazzling, gleaming golden components. This would not abate their greed, however, as the secrets of divine machinist Garumdir would lure them to open portals through unknown means to trespass into his realm without his blessing. Out from the portal the whole of the Rhandites would pour after this, but in the form of boundless sums of gleaming golden mina coins. Within each and every coin were trapped the souls of every Rhandite tresspasser; they became the object of their desires. Rhunon alone had refused to follow them in, for he was dearly afraid of the impatience of the gods for mortal vices. He was right to do so. Rhunon left the brassy cavernous temple of his people alone after sealing them away as if it were a bank vault. He himself, standing over many of his allies with strange mechanical legs, carries the legacy of the Rhandites, and their secret to golden life for having been given a functional mechanical aurum heart following the faulty birth that took the life of his mother and left him disfigured in infancy. Elam-Ilir found him after the doom of the Rhand, broken and spent by his loss. He aided Rhunon’s depressed and unmaintained state by spending a month laboring in gold mines, gathering enough ore in his lonesome so that he had the materials needed to make his repairs. Rhunon dedicated himself to Elam’s crusade thereafter, ensorcelled by the promise of rebirth into a form where greed would no longer pulse in his false heart of gold. The Tower of Sin Rhunon, joined by Beautiful Oerdon, were later tasked with chasing Amalek to his doom and found themselves lured into a deep dungeon of ill and dubious origin. While Oerdon stayed above, Rhunon led his golden automaton legion below with the intent to kill Amalek and cleanse the dungeon in a single stroke, but has not been seen since. This has left the Tower of Sin yet unbuilt, for the place of its foundation still seethed with a darkness that emanated from a place deeper than just “below”. OERDON THE BEAUTIFUL Oerdon is a human hailing from a lost and forgotten lineage that once tried to banish the curse of aging through the advanced and esoteric manipulation of bloodlines. This resulted in his family’s achievement of perpetual youth, in which they would not physically age a day past twenty years. However, they all lived short lives nonetheless, and were known to die abruptly and without any sign if they neared the age of a hundred. They were known as the Beautiful Ones for this reason. He still carries on with the faith of his lost people, who gained inspiration for their cure from the Aengul of Youth. Though the Aengul of Youth was slain by a son of Krug prior to the appearance of the four curses, his family nonetheless paid worship to his memory, believing some figment of him remained in each newly born mortal in the world. Oerdon was found by Elam-Ilir tending to his dying mother, whose death by time had an early onset at the unlucky age of fifty. He stayed with Oerdon through the stages of her hospice so that when she passed, he could be there to reinvest new purpose in the last of the Beautiful Ones. Oerdon later joined Rhunon the Golden in pursuing Amalek to the wicked place where the Tower of Sin was meant to be erected. While Rhunon delved into the accursed dungeon below that land, Oerdon stayed upon the surface to organize their forces and keep them at bay, fearing his fellow general and his mechanical legion will meet a gruesome fate without much needed reinforcements. MAKATHIR THE SILVERBANE Makathir-Tal-Thilln, whose whole name translates to “great foe of silver”, is the youngest of Elam’s generals but also one of the most deeply invested in their mission. He claims descent from the ancient High Elves of Lomal, who aspired for purity beyond the maehr'sae hiylun'ehya in the foundational days of their race and society. Makathir’s purpose in his service to Tahariae is tightly bound to his people’s pursuit of greater purity, who he claims “waits for him to return where they lie at the edge of the world”. Despite his High Elven origins, he is almost completely devoid of cultural notions of superiority or supremacy over other mortal races, warranted by his belief that no man has ever truly been pure in the first place and this has not earned their status, including his own people. Makathir joined Elam-Ilir in overseeing the construction and protection of Khamaaloth, also charged by his far elder leader in securing the interest of solitary mortal civilizations across the world. He is more known among peoples both tribal and sophisticated, singing odes to them that promised notions of security, prosperity and peace to all men who would swear fealty to “the place where men and gods are mediated”. For this reason, Makathir excels in his duty, for in a world plunged into the Age of Darkness, Khamaloth represents the last hope of countless people who exist along the wayside of history. THE FOUR AMALEKITES The Four Amalekites are the generals overseeing the remnants of the Cult of Compassion who betrayed Amalek after believing Elam’s accusations of Amalek murdering Ea-ir-Ahat, his divinely sent son. The Cult of Compassion was dedicated to the saint of purity himself, once composed entirely of his four-cursed brethren. The cult was fashioned into a knighthood after the Amalekite commanders proved themselves to be the most masterful and vehement Inquisitors. Suspecting their power to be too great for being such impure creatures, Elam sent them into the Abyss to erect an Immaculate Tower despite the high odds of total failure. BROTHERLY KAIN & SONS Kain was the sole elder brother to Amalek who more willingly thrust himself upon the worship of Ea-ir-Ahat after realizing him to be the means to finally purify the Amalekites who had long since forgotten what it felt like to live without accursedness. Having been the saint’s most trusted advisor, aid and friend, Kain could not forgive his brother Amalek after believing he had been responsible for the death of their deliverer of salvation, and turned the Amalekite Cult of Compassion on their own people in a genocide that would doom them as their curses always promised. Now the leader of the final hundred Amalekites, he and his three sons, who had been “born miraculously” despite his people’s hosting of Malin’s Curse, were bequeathed four Lambent Rings by Elam, and charged with burning away one of the most reviled concentrations of impurity in the world, the Abyss. Though Kain suspected Elam-Ilir’s intentions in sending them into such forbidden darkness, he believed the stoic leader’s promises of purity by rebirth, and marched a hundred four-cursed knights into the Aegisian realm of damnation to judge those who refused to die like men. The power of the Amalekite Inquisitors was fully realized in the Abyss, but to no witness but themselves, who reveled in the glory of what felt like a war that would burn forever within the bowels of the earth. Ten thousand undead had been burned, dismembered, mangled and destroyed by their hands in countless battles of attrition; but unlike the hundred Amalekites, the undead could not only return to false life but grew stronger the longer they were resisted. Though every Amalekite warrior could slay ten of the undying for every one of their number, they perished in the dark one by one, and each were returned to life by the mindless idiocy of the Abyss’ necromantic power to stand against their former brethren. The Tower of Sanctuary With their remaining forces, Kain constructed the Tower of Sanctuary from the bodies of those ten-thousand undead, who would not be able to rise to fight again for having been embedded in the very architecture of the spire. For the fuel of their flame they had used the dead blood of those countless lost souls, which made it burn like no other fuel. And yet the conflagration would not burn long unlike the flame of every other tower, so weighed upon by the Abyss’ consuming darkness that would never allow the Tahariaen fire to persist. The cruel irony of this was that the divine flame was the most mortal figment within the Abyss, constantly at risk of fading into nothing if not continually fed the blood of its wretched foes. When only Kain and his sons remaining, they were driven to desperation to keep the flame alive, and so their father cast himself into it in martyrdom so that it would gnaw upon his four-cursed soul for as long as he had the will to burn - and his will was strong. The Tower of Sanctuary was sealed by the sons of Kain through the use of their father’s Lambent Ring that he gave to them before his living sacrifice so that his curses would be unfurled completely in their frenzy, repurposed as kindling. Trapped there, in the darkness of that Hell upon earth, the sons of Kain would wait for Khamaaloth’s champions to relieve them of the horrors of their campaign, but no one had ever come. CONCLUSION The purpose of this lore is to add depth and context to the Inquisitors of Tahariae’s lore by portraying a contemporary and ongoing history separate from the experience of Descendant characters. As an evolving piece of world lore, this story will be intermittently updated should the magic lore pass, meant to explore different aspects of LoTC canon in the depicted journey of the original Inquisitors of Tahariae. Using this as foundational reference material, a project (“the Tahariad”) is planned to be written as a followup to this content. Each character is meant to act as a resource for future events and narratives to the discretion of the Story Team and with the cooperation of the original lore writers, who are very willing to collaborate with staff efforts to provide a concrete and consistent story for the server’s community. We hope to break the mold set by prior holy magic iterations both through the implementation of the magic and this canon, delivering a respectable project that is capable of inspiring roleplay (the only thing that matters) through the years to come. (After Xionposting for several years, I decided to ambush my good friends in the ST by flip-flopping completely back onto the other side of the yard.) CREDITS Swgrclan (Author) Johann/Geidleth (Co-Author) HeeroZero (quoted: “can you please stop doing Xionism for once”) The Story Team (for suffering my eternal presence)