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| − | == The Study of Curses and the Accursed ==
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| − | ===Crossing a legate’s path===
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| − | Those who cross a legate’s path, if not killed outright, might be cursed. This both serves as a reminder of a master’s or foe’s displeasure, and also serves as walking, talking example of what happens to those who cross him. The unfortunate may suffer either the weakness, ineptness, or madness. These curses are inflicted via a secret ritual, unknown magic item, or other unique method.
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| − | ===The Curse of The Ghost Ship===
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| − | Sailors of all races tell tales of moonlit nights when the water is becalmed and the air is still. They tell of a fog that rises slowly from the water to roll over the decks and play tricks on the eyes. The stories say that this strange vapor brings with it a curse from a past age, that it brings with it the Spirit Ship of Captain Slynn. In the darkening days at the end of the Third Age, Captain Slynn was a notorious pirate who terrorized fleets across the Pelluria. Gnomes, humans, elves—it did not matter, they were all fair game. Some say Slynn was a Sarcosan princeling banished from his people. Others say he was a dwarrow who led a bloody mutiny against a gnomish trading company. All agree he was as vicious as he was cunning and that he was a supreme seaman, forever out-sailing and outwitting the navies sent to capture him.
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| − | Even the most notorious eventually meet their ends, and there are many legends about Slynn’s final defeat. One version tells of how he was betrayed by agents within his own crew and fed to a sea dragon. Another tale tells of how the Norfall fleet finally caught up with him, and rather than surrender he lit his own vessel on fire and rammed it full-sail into the Norfall flagship. Still another says that when the orc horde flooded across the Pelluria in prelude to the Last Battle, Slynn and his crew fought like sea demons, sinking a dozen orc vessels before the breath of a dragon incinerated their ship. However Slynn met his end, the tales sailors tell of him now are eerily similar. They say that on nights when the strange mist rises, the sounds of a ship hard under sail can be heard, and that the taint of burning wood and flesh can be smelled in the fog. They claim that a fiery glow is sometimes visible through the mist, and the disturbing sound of raucous laughter fills the night air.
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| − | ===The Curse of The Great Still===
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| − | Two or three days’ ride northeast of Wogren Moor lies a mysterious region that the halfling nomads avoid and the Erenlanders call the Great Still. The Still is an expanse of plainsland that seems to vary unpredictably in both border and size but is sometimes almost 100 leagues across. As travelers cross into the Still there is little initial sign that they have entered a hexed land, but as they continue deeper into the region, eerie clues hint at something foul. What most notice first is the quiet—a growing silence that increases imperceptibly the deeper into the area they go. The sound of rustling grass, birds, and animals slowly fade, and then the noise of one’s own footfalls and voice dampen and hush until there is almost total silence.
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| − | Another dread sign is the death of the wind. The plains are a windy land, the air forever on the march. Deep in the Still, however, even the eternal wind fails, slowing first to a gentle breeze then to a dead calm, as if the very breath of the world had stopped. Farther in the air becomes stifling and hard to breathe, as if some great beast has already drawn all the value from its substance.
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| − | Animals seem to avoid the Still. No birds fly overhead, and vast herds of boro turn away long before crossing into the strange land. As a result the grasses, trees, and other plants grow taller and thicker for lack of grazing. Most disturbing to the halflings are the tales of magic going errant within this cursed land. They claim that even simple enchantments are unpredictable there and can have dangerously random and powerful results. For this fear of uncontrolled arcana alone, the nomads carefully avoid the Still, holding the region in strict taboo. The Still is known to have existed only since the end of the Third Age, and there is every reason to believe it originated it the maelstrom of rampant magic that accompanied Izrador’s invasion of central Erenland. No one knows what the quiet place may be or what dangers it may hold. It is known only that the few brave souls who have entered the region with the intent of exploring its heart have never been heard from again.
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| − | ===The Curse of Foul Bog of Eris Aman===
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| − | At the very southeastern reaches of the Veradeen on the very edge of Erethor lie the fabled battlefield plains of Eris Aman. In this legendary place, the Witch Queen and her allies defeated Izrador’s forces the first time they rose against Eredane. As the stories all tell, the battle was a fierce one with many terrible magics and cruel spirits unleashed on both sides. Though the allied races were victorious, the fell powers used during the battle left the plain a fearsome ruin that today is still a scarred wasteland of corrupted magics, demon spirits, and befouled creatures.
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| − | Where this cursed heath meets the edge of Erethor, the lowland forest has become a vile bog that holds only death and madness for any foolish enough to enter. In summer, thick fogs hide the place even when the rare sun shines. Bottomless pits of black water suck down the unwary and hide hungry monsters lying in ambush. Errant black magics, corrupt nature spirits, and the insane shades of the battle dead haunt the bog. In winter, snow and treacherous ice hide the deep holes and frozen mud where evil lies just below the surface. The Foul Bog is a dangerous place, and there is never good enough reason to venture into its terrible wilds.
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| − | ===The Curse of Thutel Dorsargh===
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| − | Arlaan was born very small and given a name that means "worthless wet rubble." (Ossyllargh) He was a member of the Thedron clan, from the village of Mahan near Calador. Less than a decade ago some travelers came through Mahan, claiming to be in search of the "King of the Dwarves." Arlaan was one of many in a town who helped the mithralthief. Once the secret was stolen by outsiders, the Kaldruns themselves cursed many who helped the thief. The story goes that in a dream, deep in a cavern depth, Arlaan saw a dream of himself being thrown from the mountains into the Northlands. He took on a hideous shape, like a deformed giant-man, naked all over, hands the size of ore carts. In his shame, he lashed out against armies of rodent-like swarming orcs. He thrashed against their ropes and barbs, ever growing, his fists becoming like siege rams on arms, until he travelled to a completely alien place, like nothing he'd ever imagined. There, he found a silver child of pure dwarven beauty, glowing. He picked up the child, which he gave the name "Mithral". Though it burned him to touch the child, Arlaan scooped it up in his oversized mitt and carried him to safety in the mountains again.
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| − | Many others in his village had dreams and were cursed in various ways. They called this curse Thutel Dorsargh (curse of the mountain's disdain). Arlaan chose to escape when other dwarves arrived and began imprisoning the cursed ones. Many were marked as criminals, but because Arlaan left and his curse had not yet become apparent, he escaped without being officially cast out. He doesn't know if anyone implicated him or not. He stopped in few settlements, until word got out about escaped traitors, cursed by the Kaldruns. Into the wilderness he went.
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| − | He left his people, and while in the winderness, he saved a bear cub from a mountain puma. The cub's mother was a talking bear. She taught him how to fight, and taught him of his own value to others. She have him his new name, which means, "boulder of the wild's strength" (Arlaan Abarakolor)
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| − | ===The Curse of Izrador's Assassins===
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| − | Razors are man-like demons, usually standing no more than 7 ft. tall. They have mostly human features, although their skin is dark gray and their eyes are shards of midnight glass with glowing silver pupils. These demons derive their name from the long obsidian talons that rip though their fingertips. Similar shards of obsidian are laced through their gray skin, emerging no more than one inch from the skin’s surface. Unlike most of Izrador’s servants, the razors served the dark god long before his fall to Aryth. They were part of his infernal host when he challenged the gods. These demonic essences fell with him, and they realized that their bodies of darkness and evil could not continue to exist indefinitely in this new organic world. Rather than die, they enacted a bold and vile plan. Using the last of their remaining corporeal days, the razors captured and interbred with as many fey females as they could find. They then performed a horrid ritual that only one out of every four of them survived. When all was said and done, the razors had gained the ability to possess any creature that bore even a trace of their blood, enabling them to continue on in this lesser world.
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| − | Razors are Izrador’s personal shock troops, sent by the god himself to deal with special problems. Centuries of training, combat, and dedication have honed their fighting skills and tactics to an unholy edge. Although they enjoy blood and torment as much as the next demon, their fierce loyalty to the Shadow prevents them from diverting from their mission. If engaged in combat outside of their mission parameters, razors are efficient and calm, dealing with their foes as quickly as possible so they can continue to their target. When that target is finally within their grasp, however, their demonic heritage emerges: They gore, torture, and mutilate their targets, bathing themselves in blood and pain, before finally delivering the killing blow.
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| − | Even a single razor represents a deadly threat to even experienced parties of resistance fighters. Unfortunately for the resistance, razors usually travel in numbers. Whether encountered alone, in a pair, as part of a squad, or as an element in a larger unit, razors work together in the most effective way possible. These demons have known each other for centuries; they know the way each member of the unit thinks and fights, allowing them to respond to and support one another as if they had a single mind. A pair of razors is usually a hunting or assassination team sent after a specific target, usually an important part of the resistance command structure. Pairs avoid contact with bystanders whenever possible, preferring to locate the target and dispatch it with a minimal amount of resistance. In all cases, the creatures move at great speed to reach their objective, then set to work with vigor. When breaking resistance in an area, they destroy everything and everyone they encounter. When sent to turn the tide of a battle, they ignore the orders of the local commanders, waiting for the moment when an application of elite force will do the most good. Any group of razors larger than two will have at least twice their number of orc barbarian warriors with them. These orcs stay out of the fighting if they can, although they attack downed or badly wounded opponents. They are highly mobile, extremely tough, and take a continuously defensive stance; they must stay alive, waiting for the moment when one of their masters fall. As soon as this occurs, the nearest orc steps forward, taking the razor seed into his body and allowing the infernal creature to be born anew. When razors die, their host bodies dissolve into a pile of rotted, festering meat. Within the pile is a six-inch diameter, glossy black orb called a razor seed. It is said a Razor who has been “killed” may transfer its essence into any creature bearing razor blood nearby. Once the essence has been transferred, the razor may take over the creature, transforming the new body into a semblance of its old, with normal razor attributes and full hit points. The razor may enact the transformation no sooner than one day after transferring its essence; it may also, however, bide its time, emerging days, weeks, or even years later. When the transformation begins, the target creature writhes in visceral torment as its body changes to accommodate the demonic possession. Through their horrid acts after the Sundering, the razors managed to spread their blood to all of the fey races through unwilling interbreeding. Over the years, the taint of their blood spread thoughout the lands and could possibly carry in their blood the razors’ curse.
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| − | ===The Cursed Patriarch of Dragonkind===
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| − | This is the story of Xircxi. He was the patriarch of all dragonkind during the Time of Years. He did not fight in the wars that followed the Sundering. This won him no friends, however, and he was considered both a coward and a traitor by the different factions. He went into self-imposed exile for more than a thousand years until word came to him that the fallen god was using dragons in his war upon mankind. He emerged to lead his brethren against the corrupted dragons, an endeavor that culminated in the bloody Battle of the Wall. Here at the wall many of Aryth’s dragons were slain, but some fell to the shadow fear a dragon called Verlathys hid in fear and shame renouncing her promise to the Witch Queen. Xircxi himself was wounded in the battle, though his body was never recovered as a Shadow prize, it is believed due to a malign curse placed upon him by Izrador himself, the wounds inflicted during that battle could never be healed, and never will. Some say he now resides deep in a mountain in the central Kaladruns, beneath a peak of fire... If alive should a key to Xircxi’s recovery were ever to be discovered or the curse cast upon him by Izrador broken, Xircxi would be a force to be reckoned with, rivaling all but the Night Kings and Aradil in terms of power.
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