You are here
'What they sought to destroy, they gave life to.'
Last survivors of the brood once called the Scorn, the Maleficae represent the surviving few of the bloodline of what have long been known to humans as 'demons.' Only the strongest among them were able to survive the deadly
realm's most recent great rupturing, and a fearsome breed these demons truly are.
Merciless. Cunning. Overpowering. The mere mention of the name Maleficae can make the average killer tremble, down to the very marrow of their bones.
The Maleficae have made their home in the darkest, hottest depths of the Underdark. There they lurk, even as we speak, watching this age of men drive itself to its knees, biding the time until the demons of the past can rise
once more to claim their rightful place, atop humanity... foot on its neck, crushing mankind into oblivion.
'Chasing the trail of smoke and reason'
When the gaze of the last oracle at Delphi grew dim, and no more prophetic utterings issued from her gnarled lips, the gift of prophecy left this mortal coil, never again to doom mankind to Fates and Furies, never again to
play harbinger of humanity's slow and painful demise.
What the world did not know, however, was that the divine gift of Apollo had at that moment touched a single unimportant swordsman named Anaximander. The man was a mercenary by trade, a killer by choice. Ruthless and
extraordinarily powerful, but with allegiance to no man, Anaximander now found himself blessed and cursed with almighty foresight.
What would you do if you knew the fate of the world itself? That you would die an agonizing undeath for the rest of eternity, bearing your unholy curse? That every soul you had ever loved would have left this life for the
next as you suffered through the eons alone?
Anaximander ran. He took shelter within the depths of the Grimoire, far beneath the surface of the unholy Umbrageous Ruins. His bloodline was not without end, though. Anaximander and his progeny called themselves the
Catarrh - a fearsome breed of warrior, cursed for all their lives with the gift of foresight. Beware - these grim prophets have seen the falling of this world, they have seen their own ascent to power - they have seen
your death, at their own hands.
'From death lead me to eternal life.'
Those known as Feralis were once a powerful band of treasure hunters. They traveled the realm seeking fortune and glory, viciously slaughtering anyone who came in contact with them. Like all who act out of greed, it caught up
For several millennia, there existed a world beyond most mortal perceptions. A world where murder was legal, and death was commonplace. The mysterious Umbrageous Ruins were said to be the central hub of this activity, and rumors
circulating Darkhaven spoke of treasures beyond belief for anyone who entered the ruins. Feralis, intrigued by the prospect of vast riches, sought to enter the Umbrageous Ruins and claim that which they believed they deserved. After
attempting to track several of the inhabitants of the ruins, they finally managed to follow one to a location in Miden'nir, just outside of Darkhaven. The man spoke some unusual words, and a portal opened, dragged the man inside,
and closed suddenly.
Feralis mages went to work attempting to open the portal. Three days went by, and finally they succeeded in opening a gateway to the Umbrageous Ruins. Little did they know, the being who ruled the ruins had been watching them,
and had legions of his followers ready to slaughter the intruders. Gravoc did not simply let them die, however. He revived them under his control, creating a clan of undead hunters to battle alongside his other warriors.
Gravoc's first order was for Feralis to obliterate the weakest of the clans he commanded, Vodikem. Their deaths were quick, and Feralis took over command of their Citadel. There they remain, eternally serving Gravoc as punishment for
'Bliss in Dementia'
You feel the end is near.. You can hear your mother calling.. Fairies.. Laughing.. At you.. They're coming to get you.. coming to take you away..
You awaken screaming, in a cold sweat. This is the seventh night of your nightmares, and you still do not understand. Gazing out the window, you notice the moon is full tonight. Your body shivers slightly, likely from the cold breeze on your sweaty skin. You stand up to close the window, but then you notice a piece of parchment sitting on the window sill. Picking it up curiously, you open it and begin to read.. 'They're coming to get you.. Take you away...End.. is near.' You gasp for breath as you realize these are some of the thoughts from your nightmares.. You hear some quiet voices giggling outside, and peer out the window to see two fairies flying away. Suddenly, your mother calls to you..
"Show me a sane man, and I will cure him for you" -Carl Jung
As you come to, you quickly realize you aren't in your home. You are in a small cell, barely six feet from wall to wall. A barred wall on one side, on the opposite side a small barred window. The full moon
shines through the window into your cell, casting an eerie light around you. Before you can wonder where you are, you hear slow footsteps approaching. A shadowy figure opens your cell, and motions for you to follow him.
"Welcome.. to the Excordis."
Excordis is a clan of individuals who have attained a higher level of being. Some people call them "insane", "crazy", or "not all there".. They call themselves enlightened. They need not worry about simple things like pain or pleasure, victory or defeat. Their goal is simple. To enlighten the world, one person at a time. If someone proves to be resistant to their techniques, they are destroyed, or forced to remain in the dungeons as slaves.