squakhawk

This Lore has been accepted. Moved to Implemented Lore, it will be sorted to it's appropriate category soon. Please note that if this is playable lore, such as a magic or CA, you will need to write a guide for this piece. You will be contacted regarding the guide (or implementation if it isn’t needed) shortly.

SYMBOL: Ouroboros / Eye DOMAINS: Fate, Conviction. STATUS: Alive. THE BIRTH OF THE MOUNTAIN Creation of Dragur The desolate and windswept lands of Aegis were left unfinished, with dull lumps of louring stone covering the continent en masse; touched by the deities who came before the mortal realm. Upon this decrepit world, the Daemon of Knowledge wandered on foot, teetering at the thought of his envisioned creations. As time passed, Dragur’s brooding left him in front of this untouched stone, one avoided by many of his brothers and sisters. It was a glorious mountain that overshadowed all others, covered in flakes of snow that illuminated the night sky. Dragur saw eminence in the mountain and fashioned it to be his first. He began carving into the stone like one would paint on a canvas, crafting overlapping scales that shimmered in the moonlight. With every night that passed, the mountain continued to change, before it could no longer be called a simple lump of stone. Talons that were overbearing, and wise eyes that were in lifeless sequence. Dragur knew that his first born would be the one to challenge his intellect, that of the sagacious deity of knowledge. The Dragon-God was filled with a pride unmatched by all of his other brothers and sisters. From his fingertips, powerful and lively energies permeated and scattered over the carved scales. An unfettered soul began to warp and give shape to something more powerful, to be suited for his magnificent creation. Eventually, this unmatched soul and all energies of life plunged itself into the would-be body of the firstborn. It gave colour to the dull creation, causing the master sculpture to become vibrant. Slowly, the mountain began to move, causing seismic waves to overpower the nearby land. Dragur did not know he could feel awe, but excitement invigorated this simple movement of stone. Drauchvozsas, now Azdromoth, opened his eyes for the very first time, staring at the world from above all others. He grasped the nearby mountains with his formidable claws and took in all the depth of beauty that surrounded him. With stretched, beating wings, the firstborn took flight. Dragur could only watch, like a father gazing at his child's first steps. The nights were filled with knowledgeable conversations, as Dragur taught his most favoured son about the winding roots and the clouds that covered the skies. The breadth of the world was edified by the Dragon-God, who did not withhold insight from the Archdragaar about the nature of creation. However, the cunning Azdromoth coveted the wisdom of those aside from his divine father. Azdromoth made flight across the world, his journey for knowledge being paramount to his worldly desires. Dragur eventually fashioned more bristling souls to cover the world that would become brothers and sisters of the Archdragaar, however, none could compare to his might. The dragon-king filled his lexicon with ancient knowledge gathered from his flight, sprawled across the pages in a runic tongue of high draconic. He was the chiefest of his siblings in size and knowledge and wore the love of his divine father and siblings as a shawl upon his winding neck. THE PACT OF HOREN The First War As the lands of Aegis were filled by the children of the blessed four, the sons and daughters of Dragur made agreements with the covenant of man. For that reason, the votary of man began to raise banners with symbols of great dragons. Azdromoth, too, was interested in the world of man; they created mechanisms that had different purposes and decorated their homes with curious beauty. The ingenuity and resilience of descendants intrigued him the most. However, outside of learning about them, he did not incline to make any specific pact or deal. In the corners of the continent, a war between the gods brewed. Azdromoth loved the descendant races and the knowledge they held, and saw the Archdaemon as a foe who wished to trample on the beauty of mortals. He did not wish to see the end of man, and so asked of his brothers and sisters to protect them. The Archdaemon, Iblees, saw a great opportunity when it came to the Dragon-God. He craved for the creations of Dragur, that of his blessed children. The dragonkin were perfect souls; absolute weapons that would shift the tides of war. In order to gain this advantage, Iblees went for the Daemon himself. Upon the summit of a bubbling volcano, Azdromoth came like a storm of thunder, hoping to save his divine father. Iblees’s estranged energies of ruin trickled out from the peak of the volcano, and chained the body of the Archdragaar. It began to poison his beautiful scales, darkening them to match the Deceiver. A pained roar escaped the mouth of the corrupted dragon-king, his mind becoming warped by tools of evil, chaos and despair. The bright radiance of his eyes were now matched by darkness, though it kept a hold of his brilliance and wisdom. Dragur and his children did not understand the weight of the tragedy that had just unfolded, one that would embody ruin. Corrupted, the ashen wings of the Archdrakaar cast darkness to Aegis. Yet, his brothers and sisters did not believe so - the spoken murals of this heresy would be something they would observe themselves firsthand. They loved their eldest brother, who once nurtured them, and lead them across the world to find knowledge and warmth. As they set their sights upon the Archdrakaar, his brothers and sisters attempted to plead for him to return to sanity. However, Azdromoth did not listen - and he went beyond their expectations. His large, sharpened talons grasped around the scaled neck of another dragaar, and his snout - burly and strong - feasted down upon his flesh. The Archdrakaar subsided to an act of cannibalism before all who watched, his teeth ripping away scales and meat, swallowed by a lust of blood. And so they knew, that their brother had embraced corruption - and that it was too late. As the Titan feasted on the corpse of his younger brother, the other dragaar made flight and fled the gruesome scene. This was the beginning of countless acts of fratricide as The Archdrakaar embraced corruption not with fear, but with great pleasure- the first atrocity. During the ravaging war, the undead horde of Iblees marched across hills and ravines. Azdromoth shielded the machinations of evil, blotting the sun with his great flaring wings. Iblees continued to poison the heart of Dragur’s creation, twisting them into malformed creatures. It was at this point that the Daemon of Knowledge, Dragur, set his eyes upon his fallen sons. He was filled with grief and pain, one that caused mountains to shake from his rageful tears. The flight of the Archdrakaar brought horror across Aegis, whilst those of the covenant of man felt betrayed by the corrupted dragon-king. For wherever he went, death would surely follow. As the war raged on, Azdromoth used his wisdom to remain a cunning strategist, and an eventual commander of the Archdaemon. His dark flames spewed like viscera, engulfing whole armies until they became nothing but piles of soot. The brevity of his corruption eventually became clear. Eshtael stared at the rising smoke that began to cover portions of the continent, and the Aengul of Balance eventually made her stand. As she descended into the mortal world, it did not take long for her to come across the Archdrakaar. The dragon-king could be seen from an island’s stretch, one who held mountains to support his own weight. He shielded sunlight for the ensuing horde of undead, whilst spewing burgeon flames that melted craters into the earth. As chains of pure white formed link by link, she cast them upon Azdromoth during his confident slaughter. His talons shredded the ground, creating what would become ravines and caves, as mortal men flew around as lifeless bodies. In pursuit of the godly fight, the Archdrakaar took flight into the air, causing darkness to engulf the battlefield. The soldiers of the blessed four stared, perturbed by the mystical nature of the dragon-king. Azdromoth fell, wrangled by chains of blinding white. His dishevelled body collapsed, being dragged away by the Aengul of Balance to somewhere mortal men could not find him, to be imprisoned under Khaz’Bokkdwedohin for all of eternity, or what was assumed to be. For the ongoing war, the Titan was no more, as many more of his corrupted siblings fell soon after. THE RETURN OF THE TITAN Herald of the Return In the centuries that would follow, mortals found themselves at the grasp of Athera, lands withheld by the slumbering titan. History now stood as whispers and campfire tales, written as epics sold as novelty. The descendants were voracious creatures, who were ignorant of the ancient past that befell them. Most only looked onward, and did not stare back. They continued to make the same mistakes of their forefathers, emboldened by the curse of Iblees. One such mortal found himself in the depths of a ravenous mountainside, winding rivulets of water and cave openings foretold to hold treasures and jewels. The greed of the dwarf known as Sordrin Starbreaker, who cared only for a means to find power, brought him into the heart of this ominous caveside. Yet, he did not know what lay ahead. A series of expeditions occurred, bringing those legionary dwarves and miners further into the veins of the cavern. The ruckus of their pickaxe echoed into the twisted mind of the malformed king, who lay trapped behind the innovations of Eshtael. Soon enough, the aberrant evil of the serpent whispered into the caves, with promises honied by an unmatched calmness. The dwarven party eventually lay in front of the sealed gates at the end of the labyrinth, covered in runes laid perfectly by the Lady of Balance. It permeated a blinding white that did not mirror the dull cave. Sordrin, the weak-willed dwarf, spread his bloodied palm over the runes that held the Titan. As the light shattered before them, the dwarven labyrinth began to quake. The dwarves present could only stare in terror at the commander of Iblees, cloistered in chains of white, broke free of his imprisonment. Azdromoth tore out of the mountain, causing the crust of the continent to wallow and shake in agony. The flight of the Archdrakaar was almost immediate, now returned of his lost strength, no longer restricted by aengulic energies. Though free of his immortal shackles, the body of the Archdrakaar was marred with history of the first war; festering wounds from the Aengul who cast him down. In order to hide his nature, the dragon-king cast energies almost palpable to the Archdaemon of Ruin, slowly contorting his corrupted scales into one that mirrored the descendants he wished to abuse. The dwarven party came out free under the sequestered mountainside, filled with relief, yet now carrying guilt of the destruction they wrought. It was too late for them, as the shadow of Azdromoth returned into the cusps of the mortal world. His return was announced by a tower fashioned in his image, one named in a guttural tongue bespoken by dragons. The citadel of Tor’Azdraeth was home to his mortal guise, where he used the knowledge of his father Dragur to design new sons and daughters, those who would be called nephilim. THE WAR OF THE INFERI Invasion of Arcas Though having returned to the mortal world, the Titan lay in secret for many generations. His knowing eyes stared at all mortal wars that befell each continent, and he mocked the cycle of their fleeing. For each time they migrated to another land, he used his most trusted sons, the nephilim, as loyal agents to whisper conflict into the heart of descendants. Azdromoth remained enigmatic, for even his coveted sons and daughters did not understand his true nature. The Archdrakaar was a prominent general, for though he did not appear, the sons and daughters of the Titan moved with his banners. They spoke sultry words of his greatness to the nations of Arcas; murals, statues, shrines and settlements were perverted into his cause, as descendants would soon join in to become scions of the dragon-king. The Azdrazi mantled him with many prideful titles; the Great Titan, the King of Dragons, the First-born of Dragur, the Heir of Knowledge. Azdromoth was dragonkin at heart, for his ego remained above all else. In his truth, the mortal world should be a throne for his creative purposes, something that he pursued at the coming of Arcas. After all, he saw it as his birth-right. Finally, the Lord Azdromoth appeared in his mortal form. He found that the kindred of Horen had forsaken the brothers and sisters of Azdromoth, as they viewed Xan as more favourable to their cause. However, his gaze settled onto towering walls of white, covered in banners that spoke of purity; the Silver State of Haelun’or. Iblees was known for manipulating and domineering others, and the Archdrakaar unknowingly followed in his footsteps. He came first as a disembodied voice in flames, whispering of their greatness and that of their pure nature. The nephilim invaded the country, warping their disguises much like their father to appear as high-elves. With each intricate step, those of the high-elven state began to cherish Azdromoth, but he only saw them as tools. He did not hold empathy for them for their pointless decadence and paranoia. At the culmination of the inferi invasion, Azdromoth settled his final card; the vow of protection. It warped the minds of the fearful elves with a glimmer of hope, to outlast all others. Azdromoth used his dark sorceries to cast great flames over the country that guarded the high-elves from all ungodly invasions. The Azdrazi became an active presence across Arcas, with the world at some point forming an alliance to defeat Azdromoth, only for it to promptly collapse after their numerous defeats. However, the Archdrakaar did nothing - he only watched begrudgingly as he was helpless to Aengudaemons who had no place within what he viewed as his own realm. A mockery of what he wanted, a tease of what he could not have. Shortly after the events of the Inferi Crisis in the midst of the Second War, Azdromoth sought to take advantage of the distraction by venturing outward. Still frustrated of being denied his birthright, his brilliant gaze had shifted from acquiring deific status, to making him deific among descendants. Confidence surged as pride got the best of the Archdrakaar who saw himself the most powerful creature upon the mortal realm. Undoubtedly, he was. He left the descendants who migrated to Almaris, The Titan venturing to his ancient seat of Tor Azdraeth in Axios. Inhabited by stray druids, he burnt them to cinders and twisted the nature which had overgrown his keep. His castle secured, Azdromoth shifted his attention to those who would keep his empire. While his Azdrazi and Heralds were formidable in comparison to descendants, they were fickle when it came to the greater host of enemies that lay across the world. Still stricken with the body of a descendant, they could not rule the swathe of the plane which he had sought to conquer. He could not build a general- but he could find them. The stray drakes and dragons still yet lived across the realm, either in deep slumber or in lives like animals. Unbefitting of their stature, Azdromoth sought to dominate and puppet those who could not lead lives of their own. His first targets were Elden and Satar, the wraith-drakes who lacked purpose. Gatekeepers of The Abyss, the two sitting in idle for centuries whilst Mordring’s absence within its gaping depths left them lonely. A mere look into The Archdrakaar’s eyes had caused the younger magma-drake Elden to cower, whilst her elder Satar defied him. Twisting around his titanic form, the smaller drake spewed flame at scales that did not burn- claws crashed against armor that did not waiver. A will of hatred that was unbroken. Satar had tried to break himself upon Azdromoth as Mordring’s gaze proved to be merely illusory. The Wraithdrakes submitted wholly before The Archdrakaar and his might, joining his flight and leaving the Abyss’ edge. With two generals secured, Azdromoth had sought to find a third- one more powerful yet. The Cloudbreaker of Almaris, a wayward dragon bordering on insanity from the corruption that had surrounded it, had caught The Archdrakaar’s eye. He tested his Nephilim, offering them a potent seed dubbed The Gift of Service. Offering greater mind and body to the Cloudbreaker, who had accepted it from the An-Gho in desperate fear. Despite this, The Cloudbreaker was slain by the Great Worm of Ixris, causing the Titan to enter a quiet, subtle rage. Even upon this plane, twisted forces continued to defy him- drakes and dragons would suit, yet more is what he needed. A setback, but one undeserved. The Archdrakaar spread his titanic wings, in search of more generals to add to his service- chief among them, the wayward Dragaar, and the sleeping Drakaar. By any means necessary, would they be taken. Azdromoth sat upon his throne of brimstone, staring down at the vast lava pools that gorged from the earth. The earth he saw as his birth-right, one that he would claim with utmost force if needed. In his brooding, the smokes ahead began to warp in shape. This caused the Archdrakaar to ruminate over a forgotten brother. He sent those Azdrazi that still cherished him, to journey out to the unknown - to find the lost one. Apotheosis The Devouring of Xan From schemes and plans laid decades, centuries in advance, Azdromoth had set upon a journey to task his kin in beginning a war with Xan - The Aengul of Order, and his greatest nemesis. Robbed of the ability to choose his own fate, both by his own making, Iblees’ corruption, and Xan’s guardianship over the mortal plane, Azdromoth sought a way to finally make his own choice in either his greatest hour, or that of his true death. Indenturing the wraithdrakes Satar and Elden, former servants of Mordring, he tasked his nephilim with countless missions in what would become a decades-long war against Xan and his following. From finding the remains of dead Drakaar, to uncorrupting and mobilizing other nephilim forces within Tor’Galend and Gra’kul, Azdromoth was presented with a choice by the daemon Tayl that truly gave him what he wished for; knowledge. With the option of aiming to devour Xan or usurping the mantle of Asura from Order’s realm, Azdromoth and his kin decided with uncertainty and doubt that slaughtering Xan was the only true option. That of the greatest godhunt, immortality in life, or in death through victory and defeat respectively. Culminating in a final battle at Tor’Azdraeth, the winds of fate changed as Azdromoth chose his own. Mortally wounded and with little life to spare, Azdromoth devoured Xan and ripped apart his golden body and form, tearing him with tooth and claw. Xan spoke in his final moments of divinity, as Azdromoth was raptured above; cleansed of corruption and faced to reveal his true nature, that which even he did not know. “The descendants’ are doomed, and it will be your greed, divinity, that damns them all, you loathsome child.” THE AZDRAZI Children of the Firstborn Like his own father above, Azdromoth had sought to fulfill the footsteps of his now broken creator. The power to manipulate souls had damned Dragur to his fate, yet Azdromoth stood in defiance of what was anathema. The Archdrakaar had spent years in trial as he attempted to perfect what the Dragon-God had done before him. He experimented with the descendants of Horen and Malin, making a covenant with them that they would be elevated to a state unseen by the likes of the world. The first Azdrazi were created, men reborn with the potent blood of the first dragon, and given life anew by the radiance of his flame. Poets, philosophers, knights, and generals, Azdromoth had sought an array for those who would become his most loyal servants. The first of them, Eresar sin Nathemas. An elven philosopher wise beyond his years, who would eventually become the closest companion the Archdrakaar would have. The Archdrakaar could not battle with the fickle hearts of the descendants, too weak to truly become one of his own blood. A flawed creation that still coveted the tendencies of man, they did not wholly accept their father the Titan. However, Azdromoth still loved them as his own. Fiercely loyal and reborn in his image, The Nephilim would ceaselessly seek to further their pact with Horen and see their father's will executed. The Nephilim even themselves counselled upon how they could further Azdromoth’s will, and created a spawn of their own. Twisted with magic and branded in his name, Heralds of Azdromoth were fanatical descendants meant to devote their existence to The Archdrakaar, shown by the tattoos which would cover the entirety of their body, imbued with his magic. The first of them was a daughter of Horenic descent named Amelia. Azdromoth bound these heralds to him, expanding their power and manipulation over flame. Battle-brethren of Azdromoth, Heralds would prove to be his most pious worshippers with zeal only converts bore. The path of Asioth was born through centuries of conversation between Azdromoth and his own firstborn, creating the foundations of the faith. The Divine Aurelects and The Fifteen Parables would serve as not quite a religion, but a way of life for Azdrazi and their Heralds to devote themselves to Azdromoth and the world he would build. After the creation of Heralds, Azdromoth continued in his effort to be seen rightfully as a god. Within the ranks of his Azdrazi, the eyes were born. The Inquisitor Eternal, The Second Eye - Speaking sweetly to his creations, the first Nephilim were uncertain of the true extent of Azdromoth’s corruption. The Inquisitor Eternal was the first to know of The Archdrakaar’s true nature, and thus, was the one to question each action further beyond. Despite this, The Inquisitor questioned not to undermine him, but to solidify his vision. The An-Gho, The Third Eye - The speaker and eyes of Azdromoth, The An-Gho is a prophet who seeks to speak when he is absent, and lead when he may need. With a third eye, directly of the Archdrakaar, implanted unto their being, The An-Gho serves as a devout and fanatical follower of The Titan. To inspire The Nephilim and their heralds, and to receive his visions and speak what the flames may tell. It was after the events of Azdromoth’s Ascension, Apotheosis, in which the nephilim changed. No longer bearing the corruption of Iblees upon Dragur’s greatest creation, the new Daemon Azdromoth looked down upon the shadows of his past-image and made them anew; granting them freedom in what they wanted to be, who they wished to be, as their scales burned with or without the past reflection of what The Archdrakaar once was. While this divided some of his kin, it was their ultimate purpose; that of self determination, freedom to choose their own fate, which grew stronger. THE GARDENS OF FATE Azdromoth’s Realm Having consumed the breadth and wisdom of Xan, this included the providence of his realm and domain. Fate is a bridled sense of destiny, and those who step into his realm are encouraged to draw from the philosophy ascertained by the Daemon of Fate: on Asioth. To most, this realm is a spiraling labyrinth of gardens, lush in roots and golden trees that stretch at the hands of fate, and the events that one could find pertaining to their life. Usually, this realm shifts and changes with the person who gazes within it. Some may find themselves standing upon a long, winding path that has no end - whereas some discover a short path that abruptly halts into a leaping mountainside. Wherever they are in this realm, each outcome, and each event, is ordained to fit the doctrines that were once spoken in the Aurelects by the Prophet Eresar sin Nathemas. In all cases, there is always some sort of lively garden teeming with a flourishing drive to control one's own destiny. The realm is, at most, shaped by the will of Azdromoth in order to host his aforementioned children, and to afford them a new afterlife that they once did not have. Azdrazi are found trawling across his realm, resting after their dues upon the mortal world. It is erstwhile that Azdromoth himself wanders the gardens, with his patron Eresar, teaching and guiding his children and those who come to his realm. The wrathful temperament of the daemon has been quelled to some extent in his mentoring, and in this, his conquest has ended. At the center of his realm, built on pillars of high-walls, bristling with shrubs, and the touch of nature, numerous eggs besmirched in a patchwork of scales lay in rest, bundled against tweedled cots. Although abundant in flora, the realm is desolate of any fauna, though one can oddly find the existence of avians within the realm. In the far corners of the realm, where these old remnants of decrepit white-walls were once raised under the banner of Order, a cracked throne gleams with fading specks of light; the throne being split directly in the middle and unable to be seated on. Beneath this brittle, mangled throne, there is an empty void - once filled by something - but whatever it was is no longer there. The realm changes as fate does, and with it, the destiny of others is manifested. ERESAR SIN NATHEMAS Patron of Azdromoth The longest-serving and eldest friend of The Archdrakaar, known even before his treachery of The First Atrocity, Eresar had survived the events of Azdromoth’s Ascension and became his first and foremost; that of his herald, advisor, and curator of his realm. Eresar is known as an exceptionally philosophical spirit known for aiding those in their own growth and development. Seeming unopinionated and flowing with the natural state of tides, Eresar weaves fate by helping others in finding their own; awakening those he may encounter with self determination. Taking upon many forms, most commonly of a flaming spirit or an elf, Eresar often visits the dreams of those troubled and toiling with their own fate. Taking upon more appearances, he seeks to help those inadvertently set upon a path of finding their own motivation and executive function. From beggars to kings, Eresar weaves those into discovering that which he prizes most; Asioth. A form of conviction and self actualization that involves one pursuing their life’s greatest purpose, as well as understanding their place in this mortality, Eresar pushes those of his following and not to find what it is their existence was meant to be. Or instead, what they may make it be. A patron of the lost, wanderers, the exiled and the desolate, Eresar acts as a quiet and thankless servant to Azdromoth, or whatever it may be that his greatest goal is to achieve. Whenever the wheel of fate turns, Eresar is surely one to have played a hand within it. THE PRESENT DAY The King Who Is After the events of Apotheosis, and with the death of the Sunlit Lord, Azdromoth has taken to the heavens, leaving behind the mortal world and his desires of conquest and domination. In his ascension, and with his birthing of the Daemon of Fate, he has achieved a sense of peace that has been fallacious since his existence. The clutches of Iblees have been released from his grasp, staving Azdromoth from any corruption that may have festered in his mind, his body, or his soul. Azdromoth has warped a new realm for his children, the Azdrazi, to rest once they have accomplished all that can be done within the mortal world. In this new realm, the Daemon of Fate is restless in teaching, guiding and nurturing the nephilim. He is a stern tutor, and in this, he desires for those who learn under him to achieve Asioth, and to find truth in their ultimate fate. At the moment, Azdromoth seeks no wars to wage, nor revenge to solidify his existence. He understands the predetermined and ordained truth of the cosmos, a sort of Order - Fate - that is to his understanding, fluid and everchanging, at least with the right actions taken. Though this may change in the future, he seeks for others the freedom of choice, the freedom of their future; that which was robbed of him for all of his mortal life, a burden which he would not wish upon any other with his greatest foe devoured. Though fate was steady, it was at his hand that it could ever turn differently. THE PURPOSE Explanation Azdromoth has been a prominent lore-figure throughout the history of the server. For the far majority of his life being a reviled and feared target of Aengudaemons and Descendants alike, Azdromoth had coveted more than anything to have the freedom to make his own choices. To be inheritor of Dragur’s legacy, to become a god or not, to fight who he wished to fight. Always eluded from him, Azdromoth schemed and fought more and more brazen until he faced Xan himself. Though the eventline was months long and months longer in the making, the battle surprisingly came out to Azdromoth’s favour as he achieved ultimate victory and ascended to godhood. No longer corrupted by Iblees and forced to grapple with Xan whom he inherited effectively the mind body and mantle of, Order has twisted to that of a more cosmic scale, the scales of fate that seem or even may be predetermined. Given multiple small unrelated events, a singular fate may culminate- one that can be forged by the hands willing to take it. Now in his truest form, Azdromoth is still grappling with finding out who he truly is, as this version of himself he is now is a blend of The Archdraakar, The Aengul of Order, and the firstborn son of Dragur before his willing corruption by Iblees. This may change over time, though for all intents and purposes, Azdromoth seeks to act by proxy for the time being whilst Eresar helps others to find their own fates from beyond shadow. Credit to: Werew0lf - Writer, Format Squakhawk - Writer

This Lore has been accepted. Moved to Implemented Lore, it will be sorted to it's appropriate category soon. Please note that if this is playable lore, such as a magic or CA, you will need to write a guide for this piece. You will be contacted regarding the guide (or implementation if it isn’t needed) shortly.

Nephilim The Lesser Dragonkin Origins “Within the span of millennia, a lapse in judgement is expected. You are meant to minimize the damage.” In times of yore and antiquity, an ancient compact was forged between the Archdragaar Azdromoth and King Horen and his descendants. The first dragonflight, renowned in these bygone times as the Order of Nephilim, accepted many souls into their ranks and taught them to fight and revere their sire Azdromoth, Daemon of Fate and Conviction, once chiefest among dragons and inheritor of Dragur's legacy. It is thought that the reason for this pact was the inability of dragonkin to have trueblood children of their own, so Azdromoth devised a ritual - The Transference - to bestow the draconic gift upon worthy mortals-turned-dragons that he dubbed his flight. The Nephilim Born of embers and bound to the service of Azdromoth, the Nephilim are an advent breed of dragonkin who have sworn themselves to the pursuit of knowledge and the defense of mankind since antiquity. Both feared and revered by descendants, these creatures possess the innate and unique power of Dragonflame, granting them boons which set them apart from unkindled men. Purpose To live forever is to hunger and to indulge in ravenous consumption. The world in itself is finite, whereas the Nephilim are infinite. This hunger for more presents itself in many ways and impels the Nephilim to seek a myriad of different things to fill their emptiness; whether it be battle, gold, artwork, theological texts and etcetera. The keenness of a draconic mind truly is infinite, yet also so limited in what it can process. That is the essence of mortality, to struggle and build a better world despite the ravenous compulsion within. Breaking this, shedding the mortal coil, is to remove yourself from the natural order of life and death. Nephilim are granted a near infinitude of moments to live, as a result of their curse of immortality. To be Nephilim is to become an imitation of life in the most personal way possible. By separating themselves from natural life and death, they have irrevocably separated themselves from the Descendant they once were. Instead, they are blighted creatures of immortum, cursed to live and struggle without the vices of mortals; ignorance, a short life, freedom of mind, and a firm identity. In truth, they are little more than pretenders inhabiting the body of the person they once were. This discomfort within one's own skin begins the Nephilim on the long path to Enlightenment, an arduous and lifelong journey as they exist in perpetuity in a kind of physiological stasis. There is a hunger that presents itself in many ways due to their awoken mind. The path to Enlightenment is the path to achieve death itself, the final chapter to their immortal life. This Enlightenment through Death is the only true way for a Nephilim to break the chains of perpetual eternity that bind them. This is not to achieve respite, but to merely achieve an end. What it means to be "Dragon", and what it means to be "Man", are two questions that sit within the minds of every Nephilim from the moment of their rebirth. A constant missing piece in their minds, almost a sort of philosophical ache. They seek to fulfill this through their service to Azdromoth by ordaining fate to be within their hands. This service can be done in many ways; preaching the word of their Lord and spreading His influence, culling those who stand against them, or by rejecting mortal society entirely; whatever it is that gives purpose to each and every individual nephilim. No matter what they choose to do, all Nephilim are chained to the idea of choosing their own fate, as they will be until death. However, as with all things, there is an end. At the end of the long path of Enlightenment, over centuries or eternity itself, they will have found a way to answer their questions. Yet, at the end upon having their epiphany, they'll find their internal flame slowly burning out. They shall slowly harden into stone, becoming statues of themselves and the person they were. They become a monument to their life, path, and eventual Enlightenment. The end is always death, even among the most peaceful of them. Draconic Mind Upon their manifestation - when a Nephilim are created, their very minds go under a large amount of psychological and cognitive restructuring. In effect, this is different from individual to individual. In short, the Nephilim often find themselves disoriented at first, gradually alienated by mortal and moral concepts that typical Descendants cling to so dearly. Over the years, the Nephilim come to acclimate themselves to their new environment, yet they find themselves reminiscing about the person they used to be. Nephilim are plagued by these persistent and haunting recollections of memories from their past life, from it do inescapable traits cling onto their mind; a nature that they must obey, for it becomes their punishment. A Nephilim who dreamed of exploring must wander the earth as it becomes ruined and jagged, if their legs are broken beyond repair, then they must crawl in agony. One who’d yearn for battle must do so, drowning himself in ichor and meaningless combat as every second becomes dull without the drums of war. Another who’d speak of cunning must lie and hoard, until every last treasure is lost within the depths of their chasms. This, in effect, is the last fragments of their mind battling against their draconic own. The inner turmoil grows for all as they’d find themselves split in perpetual battle even after the death of their former psyche, perhaps taking on old habits as they’re lost in glimpses of their old memories. Some Nephilim take to this in rage, in hatred at what they cannot control, others take to accepting and wallowing in their lack of control, perhaps sharing some general mannerisms without paying mind to it. With this also comes an inclination towards wrath, making many Nephilim hot-headed as a common response and bear little patience in regards to conflict - this can be seen in many ways, be it a battle of ideologies or steel. Even those who have truly mastered themselves cannot truly quell this burning zeal. However, this is not the same for most as other Nephilim have different manic responses to such which can be seen in an overwhelming fear, rage and whatnot. Additionally, the Draconic Mind is not neurotypical, and manifests in numerous different ways the glaring differences between Dragons and Descendants. The Nephilim are by nature neurotic and cognitively strained, and possesses Possesses limited focus or interest for subjects that are outside the purview of their obsessions, or hoarding. Foremostly, with agelessness comes an immortal mind, allowing the Nephilim to retain and recall knowledge to a much more proficient degree than would any mere man, making them excellent scholars and orators. Additionally, Nephilim show remarkable receptiveness to other Dragonkin due to their rarity, and are able to communicate with sentient Dragonkin by way of the High Draconic tongue. Over time, it becomes entirely possible for the Draconic Mind to evolve or undergo a tremendous amount of change. With age, a once extroverted nephilim with a heavy tongue might become a pale recluse, lost in deep caverns with what treasures it possesses, flipping through all knowledge it could find, and lost, entranced in the merit of its fiery arts. But to be a dragon is to embody fire, and therefore constant evolution and change. Nephilim are essentially highly dynamic individuals, with evolving states of mind that come with a draconic soul stuck within the confines of an understandably small, humanoid shell, slowly coming to embody a strand of fire as Ideologies old and new are taken and discarded, minds forever changing as it’d shift and change along the path of immortal life - memories of old and new are often mixed up, and time may have its effect on them, forcing them onto states where they cannot remember which memory was which, their identity slowly lost from them. Draconic Physiology “In retrospect, the frailty of the Human form becomes exceptionally apparent.” When not assuming a disguise, Nephilim appear differently before; where once they were limited to colours of black and red, the ascension of their draconic father returned in kind a recreation of their own kind. Their scales are always in one solid colour, seemingly of anything chromatic; from the traditional reds and blacks, to ones of other dragonkin such as gold, white, and green. Their eyes however, seemed to always be red, yellow, or orange and serpentine in nature. Whatever flesh or scales they bear will feel somewhat warm, though not at all harmful to mortals. Fully fledged Nephilim, upon their transformation, will find themselves to be up to a foot higher than they had been as a descendant, though this caps at 7’6” — meaning that an individual already of that height, or just below, would not be any higher upon being transformed. All Nephilim also possess a set of horns which are crowned upon their head, varying widely in appearance. These horns, though unique to each Nephilim, may only manifest in shades of red, shades of black and gray, or a horn-exclusive bone-white. Enkindling Dictated by vigorous trials and unyielding affirmation of self-worth, an aspirant deemed worthy may be christened as an Nephilim. Such is done through a grand ritual in which their mentor must partake, requiring that the teacher yield a Wardren: a relic sphere or cube of steel capable of fitting a human hand within. This artifice must be blessed with the draan of Azdromoth's blessing, being then bathed in the blood of the descendant and their draconic mentor of which it will soon attain the properties of Dracanium. The gem will then absorb the ichor, taking on an intense orange or red glow as the wardren is then completed. The wardren must then be handed to the apprentice, at which it would blaze with furious draconic energy, engulfing the descendant and transferring its essence unto them. The Inner Flame Fickle yet formidable, the Inner Flame is a tricky thing, comprised of a metaphysical network of dragonfire that spans the body in its entirety, thus manifesting the Nephilim’s powers. The core of this essence is supposedly housed within the very heart of the creature, intrinsically tied with their lifeforce and wellbeing. When drawing upon their draconic powers, this flame will swell, flowing its essence to wherever it is channelled. Overexerting this flame can prove to be deadly, exhausting not only the Nephilim’s corporeal body, but also their soul. It is thus critical that the Nephilim take great care to guard and foster this flame, as they are otherwise nothing without it. Severance Mechanics “To reject the form is to blaspheme.” To sever the Nephilim’s flame is to strip them of their very soul, effectively killing them. Though improbable to mortal knowledge, the deep cabals of Azdromoth know otherwise, being privy to two distinct methods of dividing the flame from the flesh. Such would involve the willingness of the Nephilim to render their flesh and blood stagnant, turning their own body into stone and rendering them comatose. Few permit themselves to be taken by a fate so tame, but those that choose to smother their flame do so to stave off impending tragedies such as corruption — for most would sooner take this form than being bound by such ill afflictions. The other means by which a Nephilim may be disconnected is through the draan of Pruzah Tuz, or the Rite of the Immaculate Blade. Through this process - that occurs over the course of three emotes - three Nephilim who know of the ritual must be present. Working in unison, the three must begin the rite and have one of the Nephilim, who knows the performance of the ritual, summon forth a blade of ethereal fire. They may then skewer the offending Nephilim through their core, the fire searing them as it saps away their Draconic ichor. Over the course of 7 OOC days, the severed Nephilim will begin to experience great bouts of emotional distress as their body relinquishes its draconic form. They would find their powers to be useless and would exhale only embers and ash, with their disguises wearing away to reveal their mortal form. By the third day, the Nephilim would be reduced to strength equivalent to that of an arcane mage, becoming incredibly sickly and frail; their flames forwent and for what remains is soot. This begins their end, dedicated by their kin for by the seventh day their gifts are fully stripped, and what remains is a stone statue of what they once were. Performing severance requires no necessary prerequisites save only that the participating Nephilim grant a reasonable in-character explanation for why they had disconnected the other. Though in-character tenets and creeds could be applied and set as a precedent, so long as the ritual is not acted upon metagamed or OOC information, then disconnection is free-reign. It may only be performed by Nephilim who have been taught the draan of Pruzah Tuz. Polymorphing Lastly, Nephilim are capable of Polymorphing, a unique capability granted to Azdromoth’s favored. With this, the Nephilim are able to change their hair color and skin tone and eye colour - however, this is an imperfect form as this ability is only meant to conceal their Draconic Form. As such, they’d find their Polymorph bearing similarities such as facial structure and body type. However, over the course of two emotes of attempting to draw upon their Inner Flame, they’d find themselves slowly morphing back onto their true form. Their Draconic Form will always resemble their Polymorphed form, as such there are details that cannot be changed; If their Draconic Form has a Beard - so must their Polymorph. Even so, this is a form of Lesser Polymorphing; they’ll have specific ‘tells’ that they have to often do; this can be exhales of smoke, cinders and embers clawing at the edges of their form, infernal coloured eyes - small details that denote their real identity. To break away from their Polymorph, they’d have to begin morphing back to their Draconic form. After about one emote, their skin will begin to dry and crack; cinders and glowing wounds form under the cracks. Upon the second emote; the skin turns the color of scales, revealing their true form. General Weaknesses The alteration which Nephilim undergo is just as much physical as it is spiritual, thus subjecting the creature to a myriad of weaknesses and detriments of both magical and mundane nature. Though certainly potent creatures in their own right, encountering any of these detriments is certainly a disheartening, if not worrisome experience for the Nephilim. Enrapturement Once Transference is complete, the Nephilim are incapable of casting mana-based magic or magic that alters an existing mana-pool, instead relying solely upon their innate Dragonsflame. This fire possesses many unique traits, the most notable of which is its ability to inflict combustive damage upon phantom creatures and other undead, even if they are incorporeal. Dragonsflame may be up to two colours of anything upon the colour spectrum. The means by which it may be shaped are listed below. Flame-Weaving (Passive/Non-Combative) Description The first ability that a Nephilim will find they’re capable of doing, is the act of Flame-Weaving; effectively being able to manipulate their own Dragonsflame skillfully, as if it was an extension of their own body. Unlike the herald’s ability Zil Kresh, they may create large and moving images out of their fire without the need of another, its usage ranging from illusions, fiery performances, intimidation, etc. Additionally, their range of control is far greater, as long as the Nephilim maintain line of sight. Forgotten Heritage (Passive) Description Due to the Nephilim’s draconic nature, they are able to perceive what many cannot. This effectively allows one to see the temperatures of their being, as a passive. Most importantly, they will delve and peer into prophecies albeit in flame as their eyes begin to leak cinders. Another ability of theirs is to quickly learn any descendant language, barring ones created by Aenguldaemonica. Ascent [2 Emotes: 1 connect + 1 cast] (Non-combative) Description By channeling their inner flame to amplify the strength of their wings, a Nephilim can- with immense focus- augment their wings with further blazing strength to launch themselves upwards through the air- and to crash down into another location, emerging from a cloud of embers and smoke. The exact aesthetics of their flight and landing vary greatly; be it from wings enraptured by sweeping flame to take off, or plumes of smoky haze that erupt when the Nephilim returns back to the ground. Enwreathe [2 Emotes: 1 connect + 1 cast | 1 Dragonsflame Unit] (Combative) Description The most notable ability of the Nephilim, by which they may summon Dragonsfire around their weapon over the course of two emotes, the effects lasting eight emotes after ignition or is forcibly quelled by some other means. The flame itself brings no harm to the blade should it not be made of flammable material or is doused in oil, though certain materials will prevent the weapon from igniting should it bear anti-magical or cold properties. If the Nephilim wants to ignite ranged projectiles such as bolts or arrows, only a small portion will catch aflame. Flamebreath [3 Emotes: 1 connect + 2 cast | 2 Dragonsflame Units] (Combative) Description An offensive technique by which a Nephilim can channel flame from their mouth and spew it out for up to four meters in front of them, lasting for four emotes. Due to the volatile nature of this spell, the Nephilim are unable to recast this spell for a duration, sputtering up harmless smoke as their inner flame needs time to recharge. Whilst spewing flame, they are unable to move properly, resulting in a slow walk or stumble. Flamespew [3 Emotes: 1 connect + 2 cast | 2 Dragonsflame Units] (Combative) Description An ability where the Nephilim to project a direct baseball-sized fireball from their maw, or throw from their hand, over the course of casting and drawing upon their Dragonsflame for three emotes. It’d travel up to twenty five meters, and where it lands - it'll expand in a plume of flame. The shape and detail of the projectile can be fitted onto what a Nephilim wishes, as example; one can opt to manipulate it onto a spear of flame rather than a fireball. Immolation [2 Emotes: 1 connect + 1 cast per specific part of the body | 1+ Dragonsflame Units] (Combative) The last of the primary techniques by which the Nephilim conjures flame around a single appendage (i.e. an arm) over the course of two emotes. They may use this to deliver searing punches no stronger than that of their regular attacks. This may prove effective against magical creatures who may experience a heavy searing pain which may compromise balance. Cleansing [4 Emotes: Freeform | 1+ Dragonsflame Units] (Combative/Non-combative) Description The Nephilim may cleanse the corruption of their fellow Dragonkin with the aid of their inner flame and another, either with draconic origin or alignment. An additional Nephilim or Ordained Herald at least is required, though more may participate. To aid, they must channel their energy into the one preforming Cleansing. They must temporarily give up their own Dragonsflame to burn and extinguish the corruption that dwells within their kin, during this time - they’ll find themselves unable to call upon those units for the duration of several days. If the Nephilim gain assistance, the burden will be shared upon all who participated in Cleansing. Should they be unable to cleanse the Nephilim by any means, they’ve the option of splitting apart the corruption and bearing it alongside their kin to lessen the effects. General Redlines: The Augmented Flame From the moment that a Nephilim is made – the prior self is burnt away and scarred, and from the remnants of that person, Dragonsflame is shaped to reform what was lost in Azdromoth’s image. With the Nephilim’s instinct to gather knowledge and expand their hoard, so does their drive to seek out the limits of their heritage and flame. Primordial Descent [4 Emotes: 1 Connect + 3 Cast | 4 Dragonsflame Units] (Combative) Description A Nephilim, emboldened by the history and what they were, may allow flame and fire to course through their body – strengthening it beyond mortal belief. A glimpse of the prior form that they once had. In this state, they grow as large as an Olog (9 ft maximum) with a thick tail and perhaps wings. They are unable to speak in anything but Draconic, whilst also being locked to their baseline abilities. Emboldened Strength [3 Emotes: 1 Connect + 2 Cast | 2 Dragonsflame Units] (Combative) Description Should a Nephilim wish to use their new-found heritage for combative purposes, they may harness the power of their long-forgotten forms into specific parts of their body. When used, flames begin to weave over the limb, creating a tangible silhouette over it with fire and ash. Upon completion, the next strikes will gain increased strength and force before dissipating. Cindering Ward [2 Emotes: 1 Connect + 1 Cast | 2 Dragonsflame Units] (Combative) Description A Nephilim may conjure a portion of their flame, channeling and condensing it into one area before allowing it to spread forth. Imbuing it with ancient high draconic, it gains protective properties, searing certain magic and consuming such - before demanifesting. The barrier will take the size of a tower shield, remaining in front of the individual. Any physical attacks will cleave through the flame with ease, as the flame may only protect against the magical. Imbued Roar [3 Emotes: 1 Connect + 2 Cast | 2 Dragonsflame Units] (Combative/Non-combative) Description The draconic tongue, ancient yet mysterious. A nephilim may imbue power behind their words, roaring or chanting loudly to bring out its effects. Flame builds up within their throat, weaving over their forms before bursting out in a wave. If specific words are used within the chant, individuals who hear will be afflicted with various ailments or blessings. If no words are used, the spell will be that of a loud roar, causing no physical harm to the ears of those in range. Rites of the Nephilim Known to each and all Nephilim upon their rebirth, these rites of their kin are only enacted with purpose. Often performed in bouts of fury and wrath to duel in truly honored settlement of feuds or in times of grace, esteem, and kindled acclaim amongst one's own. These rites exhibit the Azdrazi in their purest image, and only in passion and fervor are they performed, testaments to their ardent quintessence. Ritual of Strength [3 Emotes: 1 Connect + 2 Cast | 3 Dragonsflame Units] (Combative) Description In moments of rage and disagreements, a Nephilim can challenge their kin to a one-on-one duel. In this state, any outsiders are barred from interfering, instead forced back with a volatile fire, as if they were struck by an Uruk’s punch. To begin the ritual, two other Nephilim or two Ordained Heralds are required, each funneling their Dragonsflame into a ring that surrounds the arena. Should the Nephilim challenge another dragonkin, they will find that all spells and abilities can be done in quick succession without the depletion of their flame, bolstered by their demands and means to claim superiority. If the challenge is sent to a lesser such as an Ordained Herald or below, flaming shackles will form around both participant’s wrists. The two will decide on a set of rules, and upon agreeing - the duel will begin. The shackles will cause intense searing pain around their wrist should one intend to break a rule, though will not burn flesh whatsoever. They are barred from speaking at all, nothing more than ash and fire spewing from their maw. Victory is decided once the losing individual yields, the flames surrounding the area bursts - forcing the two participants apart. Any damage – be it the severing of limbs remains upon the end of the duel, only flesh wounds will cauterize and scar with the aid of the lingering Dragonsflame around the arena, lasting permanently if they wish to. Should either be slain, the ritual will come to an immediate end. Ritual of Death [4 Emotes: Freeform | 4 Dragonsflame Units] (Non-combative) Description The most graceful act for a Nephilim is the gift of communication. Once per day, they may commune and talk to the dead draconic beings of time’s past for advice, guidance or aid by weaving their Dragonsflame within the stone-clad statue of a fallen Nephilim. Ritual of Warding [3 Emotes: Freeform | 3 Dragonsflame Units] (Non-combative) Description A Nephilim may grant a blessing upon a Descendant, acting as a shield against the mental influences of Dark Magick, be it Siliti Thralling, geists of Mystics, etc. This requires one Nephilim, engraving an inscription on any part of their body with a portion of their flame - searing it onto their skin. One Nephilim may bestow this boon upon three individuals at the max. Ritual of Bloodlines [6 Emotes: Freeform | 16 Dragonsflame Units] (Non-combative) Draconic Fallalery As the Nephilim grow in age, so do their bodies. Immortal in terms of time, their forms begin to take on more draconic traits. They are able to resist this eventual transformation should they wish, or embrace it. The pronounced features may vary; be it the addition of horns, talons, a scaled tail, etc. This transformation tends to vary between Nephilim to Nephilim, gaining more characteristics as they age. The features that they gain may be chosen from the list below, receiving one choice per tier. These characteristics are purely for aesthetic, as they are optional and cannot be used to gain any advantage during combat. - Extra pairs of horns - Rigid/scaled tail - Elongated talons - Rigid/spiked scales - Colored Dragonsflame, ranging from red to yellow. - Battered Wings Each tier takes a specific amount of time to go up. The Nephilim is tier 0 upon the date of their CA acceptance. Unlike other tier systems, Draconian Fallalery only has three tiers. - Tier 0-1: 1 month [4 weeks] - Tier 1-2: 2 months [8 weeks] - Tier 2-3: 3 months [12 weeks] Draan Binding The final step in the creation of a Nephilim's personal weapon or piece of equipment, which binds it to them for their (indefinite) lifetime. Binding is relatively simple in practice: requiring that the Nephilim must take the Dracanium object, which has been warmed by dragonfire, and engrave their name into two places upon it. First is the Nephilim’s ‘true’ name, which they take upon their rebirth, and the second is the name of the weapon, which the drake-smith chooses upon its creation. Once both names are etched into the metal, the Nephilim may weave their dragonfire and create an ethereal link which tethers the object to their very soul. From then on, they are never to be parted. A Nephilim without their vehement equipment will feel unmistakably miserable and dreary, and in the instance that they are slain it shall turn to ash along with their body and regain its form as its owner does as well. Binding imbues no other effects into the weapon besides that they may summon it at will at the same speed one may draw a regular weapon. Up to two weapons may be bound, though alternatively, or additionally, a single increment of armor can be summoned as well, whether that be the torso equipment (including arms), greaves, legging pants, or helmet. Each area of armor counts as one of the two maximum allotted binding slots of the Nephilim. These objects cannot be stolen or looted, and may be mechanically soulbound. Should the owner lose them upon mechanical death, the other party is obliged to return the item mechanically. Shrines Much like their progenitor, Azdromoth, the Nephilim are naturally inclined towards earth, fire, and the shaping of stone. The hardy, near-infinite substance emulates the undying will of the dragons and the ferocity of their impenetrable scales. It represents timelessness and sacrifice, immortality, and rest. For this reason, many Nephilim find themselves tasked with arts and crafts ranging from simple shrine construction to the creation of grand, towering monuments of stone. Rare earth metals and precious gems are even more treasured and appreciated, often used to decorate and trim these marvelled creations, serving as both the den of the Nephilim and a place where they might enact their service and praise to Azdromoth. Shrines bear twelve units of Dragonsflame, per each revival; one unit is lost. Should it have no more units, it is not able to be used as an RP respawning area and Nephilim must grant it back the units to continue using it. The Heralds Just as the Nephilim are the product of the Firstborn’s blood fully transforming the descendant body and mind, it may also be applied to a lesser extent upon descendants; bringing about more loose changes that occur externally through a particular ink. Those who followed closely in the footsteps of the Nephilim were considered living wardrens, capable of storing draan in the ink of their skin through the formulation and development of tattoos. Corruption “Two shall be united as one. Woven by these strands of ash." Bound to shackles of their twisted and tormented history, the Nephilim were inveigled by dark sorcery casted by their draconic overlords. The adroitness of Necromancy, Naztherak and all other gifts pertaining to weaponizing life-force will result in the Nephilim’s inner-flame being warped and corrupted - a tumultuous crisp of violet or black replacing their brisk orange flare. No longer esteemed, their immortal bodies fall acquiescent to vileness and cruelty, now left as a corrupted husk of malevolent flames. The Nephilim lose themselves to the shadows of their overlords, now machinations of darkness. Dragur, the Daemon of Knowledge, saw the suffering of His immortal creation. Though unable to extricate them from their disastrous ruin, he gave them the means to slip through their ill-fated demise. Once corruption has settled in, the Nephilim - in moments where their mind is tender and conscious - is able to make a noble sacrifice to wash away their sins. Those turning corrupt will be able to rend into stone, flesh and bone turning solid. However, a Nephilim who is bound by the shackles of corruption and completely submerged will only be able to turn into ash, brushed away by soughing winds. Corruption Mechanics Exhaustion Once a Nephilim has become corrupted, they no longer follow the same exhaustion systems as a normal Nephilim. They now hold two units of dragonsflame; their normal dragonsflame as listed above, and their corrupted dragonsflame. Units of corruption are preceded by specific abilities and spells casted on a Nephilim by either a Necromancer or a Naztherak. Rather than being PK’d, the points of corruption tie into the amount of time that it takes for the body to reknit itself with four units being one OOC day. Should the amount of units corrupted be an odd number, the number of OOC days will be rounded up. Example; bearing [8] units of corruption mean that the Nephilim is soft PK’d – as the body reforms itself – for [2] additional days, in addition to the standard 1 day respawn timer, totalling in 3 days. Corrupted Shrines A corrupted Nephilim are no longer bound by their old shrines, though still hoisted by systems of revival, they are not to spawn at their normal shrines. Instead, a corrupted Nephilim will now respawn at a corrupted shrine. Shrines are places where Nephilim may assemble, usually points of respawn once they have fallen victim to their demise. Reconstruction of a Nephilim begins at their shrines, designated by the consistent shrine. As stated above, all shrines and altars must be seven by seven blocks in order to be given ST approval. Unlike normal shrines, which consist of an overall orange-red theme, exhausted by flames and being extremely warm. Corrupted shrines differ in appearance, given the aesthetic of sickly, mossy and dark shrines, grim and with flames of black or violet replacing their natural hue. Shrines bear twelve units of Dragonsflame, per each revival; one unit is lost. Should it have no more units, it is not able to be used as an RP respawning area and Nephilim must grant it back the units to continue using it. To corrupt it, Corrupted Nephilim - or any other dark magic shown - must corrupt and overpower the ratio of Dragonsflame to Corrupted Dragonsflame. Corrupted Physiology The true form of a corrupted is discernible from that of an undead, yet also distinct to those of the dragonkin, though not as close to lesser dragonkin, i.e the Nephilim. Usually humanoid, they’d be as tall as their descendant self, showing no increase in height nor weight. Due to being under the influence of ancient prowess, they’d look like their mortal husks, lacking fragments of flesh or muscle, only visible with frangible bones. They still possess some essence of life-force, usually visible as black shadows surrounding their ashen form from the ailments of corruption. On top of this, they’d hold two large bone-like horns sprouting out from their cranium. Though normally two, some have come to also grow bone-like tusks from the front, thus giving them a maximum of four horns. These horns hold nothing of value outside of being present aesthetically, perhaps even crumbling at times. As their forms are culprit to dark sorcery, many lack visible organs through their bones, outside of their inner flame. Due to this, many have their innards replaced with wreathes of black flames. As they lack any vital organs, the Corrupted fall to the same benefits of other undeads, no longer able to be harmed by illness, venoms and poisons. Sadly, this is due to their lack of veins and blood. Their strength is hard-struck to their old descendant selves, though they grow weaker in durability as they are now brittle and bone-esque. However, they are still harmed by gelid air or cold atmospheres, even more-so with their inner-flames bursting out of their skeletal forms. Corrupted Mentality Forged from the insidious hatred, the corrupted are lost and failed dragonkin that roam the land with lackless purpose outside of servitude to their vices and loathsome minds, or attempting to reach the higher echelons of strength. However, they take spirit from their resembling dragonkin; the greed for power, wealth and value -- they will take what is considered beautiful in their lackless eyes. However, the effects of hoarding do little to sate their starvation. Envious of mortality, they seek the same honours as any descendant, to taste food, to drink and to feel joy but are ultimately cursed to never attain it - from this comes not the path of Enlightenment, but a rebellion of rage and hate. Most hold negative emotions and feed into them. This includes: depression, resentment, failure, sadness, jealousy, guilt and helplessness. Those bound to necromantic, or corrupted servitude will always follow their overlords, much like golems and atronachs are unable to disobey their masters. Binding a corrupt Nephilim requires OOC consent. However, most of the Corrupted loathe their chains of their body and will seek freedom should it come to burden them. Corrupted Enrapturement Though now corrupted, the Nephilim is able to cast spells using their corrupted dragonsflame, holding a new arsenal of devious, insidious abilities. However, they are still unable to use mana. The flames of a corrupted Nephilim hold similar properties to their old self, though seem to have a more destructive property against their own kin, which makes them machinations of corruption. Fear Inducement [Freeform | 1 Corrupted Unit] (Non-Combative) Description The fallen dragonkin is able to morph their appearance to be perceived as an assortment of other monsters. Their inner flame will seep out of their bodies and cast over their skin to appear more frightening. This ability is more free-form, though the Corrupted does not grow in height. Corruption Instillment [ 4 Emotes: 1 Connect + 3 Cast | 3 Corrupted Units] (Combative) Description The corrupted dragonkin is able to slowly build up a miasma of violet or black flames. Once these flames have built up, it can be thrown and directed at another Nephilim. On impact, the Nephilim will be corrupted for three points of their Dragonsflame. Stygian Mount [1 Emote: Freeform] (Combative/Non-Combative) Description The fallen Nephilim is able to give rideable mounts the aesthetic of a creature made entirely of black ash or fire. For example, the corrupted Nephilim may mount a horse and cause it to be engulfed in flames of black. Of course, these flames will purely be aesthetic and hold no benefit in combat. Chains of the Undying [3 Emotes: 1 Connect + 2 Cast | 3 Corrupted Units] (Combative/Non-Combative) Description The corrupted dragonkin is able to muster volatile miasma into their palms, taking the shape of chains. Through these chains, a Nephilim may utilize it in many ways: as rope, to drag items or people, or to act as a whip. Should the fire meet flammable materials thinner than leather itself, the target will be met with searing pain in the area, causing an unsettling scar to form. Corrupted Polymorphing Though corrupted by their necromantic or demonic forefathers, a Nephilim may still intend to polymorph. Unfortunately, the polymorphing of a Nephilim is imperfect and does nothing to shield them of their disguise and corruption. A Corrupted Nephilim who attempts to polymorph will find their horns still in place, with only half of their body covered by shredded flesh in order to attempt in their disguise. A horrible attempt of concealing their corrupted draconic forms, they remain as undead and as blighted as their prior form, with only fake flesh to lazily cover half of their body, and to be filled by some mortal recognition with one-side filled by remade organs. Yet, flames will still spew on the other-half, though not enwreathing their whole form. Corrupted polymorphing is truly useless, it does nothing to garner them any form of concealment. Credits KILL_MAPS, Gamma_Byte. 2022-2023. Nephilim - Lesser Dragonkin (Clarifications & Fixes) Werew0lf, Gamma_Byte, Jentos (Collaborated Work). 2022. Nephilim - Lesser Dragonkin (Rewrite) Werew0lf (Weaknesses, Corruption & Clarifications), Excitedly (Organization, Structure, Writing), Norrthh (Weaknesses & Clarifications) & Creative Consultation (Nivndil, Philposting, Firespirit44, Remeron, Milenkhov, Archipelago, Werew0lf, Sorcerio, Squakhawk). 2021. Nephilim - Lesser Dragonkin (Rewrite) Yeagerist (Writer). 2020. Azdrazi - The Inner Flame and Severance (Addition). nameistaylor (Writer). 2019. Azdrazi - Azdrazi, Children of Azdromoth (Rewrite). Numirya. (2016). Collaboration with Lore Writers & provided Creative Assets (Paintings, Sketches). Excitedly, Freema, Key_Of_Solomon. (2016). Nephilim - Lesser Dragonkin. Remeron (Writer). 2014-2016. Dragur (Daemon). Guide: OOC NOTES: 11:36AM - 19/07/2021. Clarified respawning if there are no Shrines. 11:29AM - 21/07/2021. Removed 'Nephilim do not benefit from the effects of Alchemical Potions'. Added clarifications on corrupting and restoring Shrines. Buffed Flamespew and clarified some stuff. 11:42 - 21/07/2021. Removed 'erection of grand, towering monuments of stone.' lmfao. 11:41 - 03/08/2021. Applied ST feedback and changes.

Lore has been shelved and moved to the appropriate subforum. If you have questions about why this specific lore has been shelved, please contact an ST Manager or the ST Administrator.

Amendments/Additions implemented into main lore post. Thank you for your submission. Moving to correct subforum to prevent redundancy and clutter.

The elf sat within her starlit room, a place which sat where it did not belong as books came to be her only company. Decades - nearly a century- since any had last visited her, so the same had she visited another. "I always wanted to be Maheral. Even Sohaer would do." She spoke, rolling over upon the worn red-velvet cushions that began to tear at their corners. She could've repaired them easily, but she had long lost the drive or will to do so. "For power, dear Ane?" Another voice asked. "I always believed in purity; in our place in the sun. I hated that I was judged from my birth that I would only ever be cattle. Someone to be married off to and that would be my use. That because I was not raised as highly as my cousins I could never achieve true purity; true greatness." She spoke, bitter. Her eyes furrowed as she murmured, muffled into a pillow which she hugged dearly. Her legs kicked within the air as if she was still young- the chamber all but silent to her speakings. "What of Laurir? Okarir'tayna? Okarir'nor? Sulii'ceru? Your family ruled two regimes under your control, perhaps that is something? They've done nothing but withered without your presence in that city." The voice spoke again, gentle; the voice of one she once knew so well, yet so little of. "Do they still speak of Anethra Uradir now?" She hissed. "Do they speak of Anethra's accomplishments, her contribution to it's greatness; her tales and stories so far and wide-experienced. Venturing into other worlds. Discovering new types of magic, inventing spells, reviving an academy, reviving a family, reviving a dying regime; Do any remember her? Have any sought to?" The chamber remained quiet between the lone elf and her thoughts, the scent of old books and dried flowers perfuming the air like a sickly scent as magic ran hotter than blood within this sliver between worlds. "I do not want to quit. I always quit. But what remains the point? It was all for nothing; I give the reins to my idiot cousin and he butchers my family and name in weeks before fleeing into total obscurity. All my kin elsewise had gotten the endings they wanted. Love, fortune, family. What remains for me? How is it mine begins before them, and still has yet to end?" No voice returned it's thoughts as the elf buried her face into the pillow. All she'd like to do is sleep, always sleep. Never was she tired of long days or tough work, but merely tired. Sleep was an escape- sleep was easy. She could dream and be distracted when her eyes remained shut. Maybe she'd stitch them so someday. But for now, she cried. The futility of it all had gotten to her again. "All my life I have tried and tried again to make something of myself and it always seems to crash down. I can never stop and feel pity for myself- what is pity but being selfish? What is it but weakness to be disregarded, an image forever stained, a pride never to be achieved again? This.. masquerade, that never ends. Is that what it is all meant to be? Is that the sum of my accomplishments, that which I made of my life? To languish in a greatness which is never truly achievable?" Anethra continued to lament, any and all logic of her mind long quieted as she spoke emotionally. In this place where she could not be seen, heard, even known of- she still felt embarrassed of this judgement. A standard to which she held herself, a standard which she held others to for so long. Is this purity? The elf continued to weep quietly as years of her life were undone, made little and nothing but triviality but by a rampant and inconsolable mind. A mind that raced yet went nowhere. There was no good ending, no conclusion, nothing but questions she could never even hope to have the answers to. An escape which she could not find but so desperately desired. Maybe she would try again sometime- maybe not. It seemed easy to never try, and to not disappoint herself if she may fail. To lay and languish further in a living rot so addictive, yet so undesirable. A cycle of torment, a cycle which seemingly would never end. Maybe one day that would change. But maybe too it wouldn't.

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"Are there none worthy of a fight?" Casreus spoke, disappointed - Still had he yet to taste blood nearly a year into this war. "What challenge is there but mine, then?"

Lore has been shelved and moved to the appropriate subforum. If you have questions about why this specific lore has been shelved, please contact an ST Manager or the ST Administrator.

Lore has been shelved and moved to the appropriate subforum. If you have questions about why this specific lore has been shelved, please contact an ST Manager or the ST Administrator.

Lore has been shelved and moved to the appropriate subforum. If you have questions about why this specific lore has been shelved, please contact an ST Manager or the ST Administrator.

Lore has been shelved and moved to the appropriate subforum. If you have questions about why this specific lore has been shelved, please contact an ST Manager or the ST Administrator.

Where had the Heroes gone? With the death of Order, he who would shield the mortal realms, the world convulsed in his death throes as the radiant sun was extinguished with a crimson star that had taken its place. Casting crawling shadow upon the realm, darkness had its day as the last safeguards were extinguished. The Realms of Descendants at the mercy of whatever came down from above, or up from below as none was left to protect them. But hope was a venerable thing. Whilst some had continued upon their lives, others anxious in bated breath of what may happen next, the eclipse began to pass. A mercy upon the realms, as the crimson sun began to turn and daylight began to shine through the clouds for the first time in two years. The lands of Axios were ravaged as the corpse of Order shattered whatever remained of the realm, boiling seas and sudden mountains and ravines as the land was sundered beneath the broken armor of a golden god, the god which had given the mortal realms light and protection. The world still seemed never yet the same. Wind did not course through the air as it should have, seas unusually turbid and rocking, the grasses did not seem as green. A bleak shadow was cast upon the material plane, the realm of the mortals, as the true nature of The Second Age had been revealed. An age where gods had little want, but great need, for mortal following, an age where many clutched to their rosary and idols for forgiveness. An age where Dragons took to the skies oncemore as Dragur's sons and daughters truly made themselves free, an age lost and ancient evils had waited for, for eternity. An age where Descendantkind would know fear, when fear came. Hope shifted from victory, from radiance and joy, to prayers that evil would spare them another day. Only time and blood could tell if, or when, that could ever truly change.

Cowards will seek the protection of anything at the cost of their morals. True soldiers of this god would fight with faith, not to act the part. I've yet to face one of these so called faithful and brave in the field as they continue to cower and beg for help in exchange for their own morals. Had you truly cared, it would already be done. Show me your mettle. Stop wasting my time. This is not a war about your god, but a war between your might and my own. I still wait to see it in the field. Casreus spoke, gods and men placed aside as he had one thing upon his mind. The enemy.

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the secret gravitational hyper beam plugin is working @Greehn. soon players will not be able to log out. and with the addition of program J0H-ANN, they will be forced to be logged in forever or die. It is impressive being able to change how peoples games function, mister greehn... I am impressed. Now begins stage 2. Players will no longer be able to even turn OFF their computer. See it done.