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Description

The Four Humors bring much to the world, the precious fluids providing for all walks of life. They fuel the body, heal the flesh, preserve knowledge, warm homes, create wonders and so much more. From them comes the energeiai that brings about magic, incredible arts that give so much more. This should come to no surprise, seeing how they come from Ichor, the very fluid of life. However, there are times when such potent fluids and powerful magic must be held back. When a warning must be given to those who would wield such power with reckless abandon. These arts are capable of bringing both life and death, and sometimes, it is the life they create that is far more terrifying.

For those who live in the Osteo Wastes, Blood Lightning is a powerful magic. It can harden the dusty ground into solid chunks, good for better footing or warding off hungering leviathans. It leaps and crackles through the dry air, wielded by the bone ships that sail across the white dunes, blasting pirates and beasts alike. However, the people warn of overuse of such an art, that Blood Lightning can cause incredible devastation when let loose. Blood is charged with energy and vitality, and these wastes are filled with the dust and bones of what once was. Be it a passing Blood storm, or a fool unleashing such energy without restraint, there is a chance this Blood may cause a spark. The flicker of life that may find home within these ancient bones. If chance be foul and fate be cruel, this rare spark may cascade into something new and violent, life born without cause, care or restraint. The bone dust fuses together by the crimson bolts, and the life-giving energy is given shape and form. What rises from the Osteo Wastes is a beast born from fate and excess, when the land is overloaded with vitality it cannot contain. While its birth is nothing short of miraculous, its image is one of terror and destruction. Life with no mind, no purpose. The path it walks is scorched by its overflowing energy, and it lashes out at everything for it knows no better. With them comes the storm, swirling around its unending neck. The two walk together, their fates entwined. When one ends, the other perishes. Short and swift. Powerful, yet fleeting. Bringing forth, and taking all the same.

Description

The Four Humors bring much to the world, the precious fluids providing for all walks of life. They fuel the body, heal the flesh, preserve knowledge, warm homes, create wonders and so much more. From them comes the energeiai that brings about magic, incredible arts that give so much more. This should come to no surprise, seeing how they come from Ichor, the very fluid of life. However, there are times when such potent fluids and powerful magic must be held back. When a warning must be given to those who would wield such power with reckless abandon. These arts are capable of bringing both life and death, and sometimes, it is the life they create that is far more terrifying.

For those who live in the Osteo Wastes, Blood Lightning is a powerful magic. It can harden the dusty ground into solid chunks, good for better footing or warding off hungering leviathans. It leaps and crackles through the dry air, wielded by the bone ships that sail across the white dunes, blasting pirates and beasts alike. However, the people warn of overuse of such an art, that Blood Lightning can cause incredible devastation when let loose. Blood is charged with energy and vitality, and these wastes are filled with the dust and bones of what once was. Be it a passing Blood storm, or a fool unleashing such energy without restraint, there is a chance this Blood may cause a spark. The flicker of life that may find home within these ancient bones. If chance be foul and fate be cruel, this rare spark may cascade into something new and violent, life born without cause, care or restraint. The bone dust fuses together by the crimson bolts, and the life-giving energy is given shape and form. What rises from the Osteo Wastes is a beast born from fate and excess, when the land is overloaded with vitality it cannot contain. While its birth is nothing short of miraculous, its image is one of terror and destruction. Life with no mind, no purpose. The path it walks is scorched by its overflowing energy, and it lashes out at everything for it knows no better. With them comes the storm, swirling around its unending neck. The two walk together, their fates entwined. When one ends, the other perishes. Short and swift. Powerful, yet fleeting. Bringing forth, and taking all the same.