Their name spans back to the First Age, when there laid life within the ancestral land and when a war of light and darkness slowly deteriorated and land and drained the plane of life. There had been two sides the coin; two choices a man can make. You could join Iblees and follow his destructive path against spiteful Necromancers bound by a forsaken curse or fight against it against White-Wizards. However… others had found another side. As said in legends locked away in the Dark Omnibus, there was a band of human lords with hearts as black as the void and minds as dark as the night sky; greedy as dwarves, violent as Orcs and without the patience of an Elf. They were spiteful, and their spite had led them to learn the Dark Arts; Necromancy, what rogue-Magi and the followers of the Fallen One had commonly adopted into their arsenal to use against the forces of good. But these Lords held little regard for the conflicts of higher-beings and the toys they used such for.
The Lords counted up to five in number, holding as much spite and selfish desire for immortality as the next. They dabbled in dark things in the darker corners of the earth, the years passing in droves as they worked tirelessly to form a ritual that would exact them the ability to defy age. The Creator did not answer their prayers, Aerial did not see them worthy to align with the ever-living Ascended and Iblees would have them thrown into raging hellfire for their demandful audacity for such gifts that he stole the human race from. Taking things into their own hands would be necessary, and in due time, they unlocked … dark things. Evil things meant not for mortal hands; an unbound and forgotten thread of the inner-machinations of the Creator’s works. A manipulation overlooked by the Aenguls and Daemons; a mistake turned awry, having been awoken by men of malicious ways and bent to their will.
They discovered rebirth through death.
The Five Lords knew what they were doing when they vowed to all follow this path, they knew the dangers that were at-hand, but they could not bear the consequences of life. They knew, past their anger deteriorating mental state, that even if Iblees was defeated, their people made safe and the land cleansed free of the taint that the Fallen One had spread, that they would still have to taste the bitterness of mortality. Whether by the sword or the slow decay of time, they would die. They disregarded their humanity for darker gifts, but they did not realize what they really traded themselves for.
Through a ritual unknown even by the deepest dabbler of the Dark-Arts, they were stripped of skin, flesh and bone; they became what they raised - beings made up of dark mists that hold such strength that they were allowed to don robes and wield blades alongside their putrid magics. They became ever-rageful, seeking more power despite not being able to garner any past the skill they hold in the dark craft. They had been distorted into half-incorporeal beings, like ghosts with the strength of mortal men. They held no strand of their sanity in life, but once they all had gradually turned into these forsaken Wraiths, there was a clarity that dwelt their broken, angry minds:
They cannot escape this.
They once had families. They were Lords for a reason; they were noble once. People approved of them, they ascended to their political positions on behalf of the honor the people of Oren, and their fair King, had seen in them. They were happy before, and it was not a higher-being that twisted them into evil men, but fear. A human could only last so long, and now condemned to this life shrouded in darkness and despair, they would watch as the land they once followed so closely, and all of it’s inhabitants, dwindled away in place of strangers. Their family lines and loved ones withered away without their presence. They watched, and their despair only heightened. They watched as everyone died, and knew that there would be no comfort for them, no comfort to ease the pain of their passing.
The Five Lords came to undeath; the very image of the power of those who ascended to a higher state of being, in glory, undimmed before the very breaking of the world. They were immortal, they held ever-lasting power because of themselves, not others—but they, the good Five Lords once loved by many, had to linger on, in darkness and in doubt, as night falls into winter that comes without a star, as summers pass with unrelenting heat with skies as blue as the ocean; as the seasons pass them by endlessly as if days and hours. In the Plane of the Living the Five Dead Lords would dwell, bound to their grief and anger; under the fading, blackening skies, until the lands are changed and the long years of the four races’ longevity are utterly spent.
They faded in time behind the ever-changing canvas of the world, still dwelling amongst the living, but only coming forth to strike innocents down in futile effort to relieve themselves of the agonizing grief. The secret of their turning was forgotten as the Five Lords dwelt farther and farther away from each other until their numbers were gradually slimmed; Clerics and wielders of Holy Light having found them alone and purged them from existence. There laid only one Lord left in the latter times of the First Age, present as the ancestral land broke before his very eyes. He lived longer than any human would ever had, but in turn, would be cursed with an ever-lasting anger and urge to purge the weak and living from the masses in effort to dispel his grief.
He was trapped within a broken Aegis after the Four Races had fled to another land; finally knowing the mistake he had made. There he walked endlessly; yearning not for power, but for a release from this curse that could no-longer be shattered now that everyone had fled to another realm. He walked upon a dead land forever-more, a Wraith gripped with agonizing emotion without anything to release it upon. Never would the Last Lord see his loved ones, for death is something he and his four comrades had surpassed; unable to be reached now that death itself had been imbedded into his soul.
However, following the cleansing of the Black Nexus, all necrotic Wraiths reverted back into their normal Descendant forms. The current iteration of Wraiths were created by Mordring to pursue his goal; the resurrection of Dragons as a race. In addition to this, Harbingers have been reclassified as Elder Wraiths.
The Altars Of Dawn
The Greyscale knights, servants of Mordring when he existed as a non-corrupted Dragaar named The Lord of Morning, built many altars in the name of their master as a means to receive empowerment and communicate with him. Alas time has seen a new, wretched use for these altars, for with Mordring’s fall to corruption, the dark extended to his altars. Now they too seep of his corrupt essence, now connected to his Drakaar state, they exist as the new means of bringing a descendant into wraithdom.
The Greyscale knights built these altars across various continents and lands, and so they stand today, but they are not without a price. For to simply find one of these altars is nothing unless an existing wraith stands by you to assist in the transformation. When touched by a Wraith an altar will become temporarily active, and all across it a writing will appear to glow where previously nothing was written, again in the mysterious language of dragons. In this state, the altar is capable of receiving an offering, but the offering itself is a specific one:
The Immolated Catalyst
The catalyst is a bone given to wraiths by Mordring or another servant of his, so that they may create further wraiths. However, there exists some restrictions as to who can become a wraith - the chosen will need to be a creature of a dark affliction, be it a ghoul, a lich, a darkstalker, a Graven, Dreadknights, Paleknights or any high-tiered dark arts user. It should be noted that ghosts and wights are unable to achieve wraithdom, their beings too warped from physicality for the process to be successful.
When the catalyst is offered to the altar by placing it upon it, and if it worked then the bone will become engulfed in black hellfire, quickly turning to ash - thus the process is begun. The mortal is now on the path to Wraithdom, but before the ritual may be completed a set of trials are to be performed as proof of the strength required to serve under Mordring: These trials may prove to be simple yet difficult, for the potential wraith must slay three of any race and gender, and collect a single bone from each. Once done, the potential wraith must have the altar re-activated by an existing wraith, and then before it take their own life by stabbing themselves (or if a lich or darkstalker - their phylactery) with a gold weapon, to rid their soul of its bindings, and allow Mordring’s essence to consume it in immolation.
If all were successful, then the subject would never seem to die as they pierce themselves, instead they would instantly burst into a deep, black flame, a searing agony like no other entirely consuming flesh, bone, mind and soul as the process of immolation takes place. But in a matter of minutes, it will cease, and all that remains of the mortal would be death incarnate, the ashen vindicator, the jewel of immolation: A wraith.
The wraiths are bound to enact the will of Mordring until such a time that they may be released, and that will is the preservation and protection of the dragonkin. Dragons and Drakes have been driven to near extinction under the wrath of the Descendants, but Mordring would seem them restored. Wraiths are now bestowed with the power to summon forth a small black orb that acts as a hollow container, a vessel for lifeforce to be accumulated, this is known as;
The Draconic Vessel
The Draconic Vessel by itself is functionally useless, and a wraith can only have a single one summoned at a time. The vessel requires the lifeforce of 15 mortal descendants, and when this is complete, it will form into a fledgling dragon, which will then be released upon the world to live out its days and restore the dragon bloodline once more.
The Vessel is filled by killing the mortal within proximity to it, it will naturally draw upon the escaping lifeforce and draw it in to feed upon it. Any mortal or immortal may fill the vessel, but only a wraith may summon it. This is the duty of Mordring’s Wraiths, to constantly seek to bring life to the dreadful beasts of the sky, but with a direct relation to dragonkin, they will never be harmed by them unless otherwise provoked.
If the Draconic Vessel is attacked or disturbed in anyway, it will be destroyed and its contained amount of lifeforce will be lost. However a wraith is both able to instantly start again, and resummon their existing vessel to their location at any point, allowing for it to be filled periodically at different locations - This allows for the vessel to be summoned to the location of a death before it occurs to allow for the easy collection of its lifeforce. This of course, does put the vessel in danger.
It should be noted however, that while bound to Mordring’s will, a wraith is to see that the dragon exists undisturbed - should the wraith betray Mordring’s will and capture, kill or torment the dragon in any way, then they will lose the embrace of their master and dissipate, finding themselves lost to time in eternal damnation.
The wraith in its purest form appears as a simple floating cloud of ash draped in black robes, but their appearance is known to adapt and change. It is not unheard of for wraiths to be seen with bony, charred black feet and arms. In this plain state they exist bound to the will of Mordring, and cannot escape performing his bidding. To fail in this, would result in the sudden loosening of Mordring’s clutches, causing the wraith to dissipate and ultimately - die. The change to wraithdom being a permanent one, this death too, would be permanent.
Most of a wraith’s abilities are not inherent with its nature, bar the ability to summon the Draconic Vessel, as well as imbuing their ashen entity into a lifeless corpse, allowing them to animate it and walk about in a mostly disguised form - this skill is known as ‘Husking', however it bears a noticeable 'tell', the act of husking leaves an entry wound on the body which is displayed as a black scar. A dark arts wraith will remain a master of dark arts, whereas a creature such as a ghoul would find itself more proficient in physical combat as a wraith. However, wraiths do bear a number of strengths and weaknesses:
- A wraith is more suited to the field of dark arts, and learns certain dark arts magics 100% faster than usual. For clarity, these magics are Necromancy, Blood Magic, Mysticism and Soul Puppetry. Frost Witch, Fi', and Shade are not effected by this boost.
- A wraith is a naturally hardy creature, durable even without armour.
- Wraiths can happily move and exist underwater.
- Wraiths have no need to eat, drink or sleep.
- Wraiths have the ability to summon a ‘Draconic Vessel’
- Wraiths can utilise ‘husking’, allowing them to disguise themselves.
- Wraiths maintain the ability to imbue their essence into Thanhium, allowing for the creation of Bloodshards.
- Wraiths have an extreme weakness to holy magic and gold weaponry.
- Wraiths have a significant weakness to fire and sources of bright light.
- Wraiths cannot pass gold barriers.
- Wraiths cannot wear armour (Small bits of RP armour on Elder Wraiths is fine)
- The husking scar must be either visible on the skin or described in the bio. It cannot be concealed.
The Elder Wraiths
An Elder Wraith is functionally the same as the regular wraith with one unique distinction - freedom. These wraiths have completed their service to their drakaar, a total of 8 elven months have passed and they have earnt their independence, these wraiths are now able to exist without the binding to Mordring, and free to do with their wraith forms as they desire. The existing harbingers of today are to now exist as an ‘Elder Wraith’, having outlived their master Setherien. Mordring looked upon these wretched souls with sorrow, and believed that their time beneath a master had already run its course. Mordring granted these Elder Wraiths with the ability to summon the Draconic Vessel should they desire, but otherwise leaves them to their own devices in an act of sheer pity.
Mordring’s gaze also drew notice to the previous necrotic wraiths when approached by the reclusive Old Lord Malkaathe, who persuaded Mordring for a lesser time of servitude. Mordring did oblige, and should one of the wraiths of old approach his altar with pleas of servitude, their time would be reduced to 4 elven months.
An Elder Wraith does not sustain itself through Mordring, and instead here we see the visual difference between wraiths and Elder Wraiths - Elder Wraiths are lightly plated in armour, usually in the form of a simple helm and gauntlets. It is no secret that Drakaar, specifically Setherien, have been known to meddle with the mineral known as Thanhium. Mordring grants the Elder wraiths this Thanhic armour that draws from the heat around them, and transfers that heat into the dark energies that nourish these wraiths, reminiscent of the harbingers under Setherien.
Use of Magic
Both Wraiths and Elder Wraiths receive the Spectre Nexus race.