Vorabyssiem

The Vorabyssiem, also known as the Devourers of the Abyss, are demonic entities born from the corruption of flesh and the defilement of souls. Their existence is an aberration, once dead bodies, they were ravaged by abyssal essence, an insatiable force that wove their rebirth into a state of un-life.

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Origins

The Vorabyssiem, an abomination born from the advent of Night, trace their origins to the time when Shadow, jealous of Light and its creation, broke the cycle of eternal days. In this act of cosmic rebellion, the balance between light and darkness was torn, and from this rift poured forth a dark and corrupted force, giving birth to an infernal legion.
The Vorabyssiem are neither fully alive nor fully dead but are twisted echoes of the Living, shaped in the abyss by the will of the Lord of Shadows. Their bodies, contorted and broken, reflect the very essence of their curse. They are the instruments of the Seal of Death, an infernal mark they impose on their victims. This seal, more than a mere sentence, binds the torn soul to the realm of darkness, where it becomes the eternal prey of Shadow.
Legends say that the Vorabyssiems are not mere servants, but the children of Night itself, born from the cracks left by Shadow in the fabric of reality. Their sole purpose is to sow desolation, relentlessly pursuing the living to drag them into the depths. They haunt the desolate lands, where light is weakest, emerging from the shadows to capture those who dare approach.
Thus, they embody the revenge of Shadow against Light, an endless scourge that reminds humanity of its impermanence and fragility. But in their monstrosity, some sages see a warning: for though the Vorabyssiems were born of Night, they are but a reflection of the ambitions and corruption that slumber within the hearts of mortals themselves.

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Curse of the Vaults

The Vorabyssiem, cursed with an insatiable thirst, inevitably respond to the call of the Third Eye, a mystical symbol that transcends mortal understanding. With each Vaults of the Celestial Realm , a cosmic event marked by the changing color of the Skies, the gates of Hell open and release these abominations into the world of the Living. A night of carnage follows, a macabre dance where the Vorabyssiems unleash their fury upon all that breathes, the massacres blending with the tumult of shadows and stars.
But the appearance of the God of Light, intervening at the height of this chaos, marks the moment when their madness finds a new direction. Frightened and fascinated, the Vorabyssiem, in a desperate surge, rush toward one another, forming Abyssal Towers made of their entwined, decaying bodies. This grotesque structure, a writhing mass of cursed flesh and crawling shadows, rises in a desperate attempt to touch the Skies. Yet, their ambition is but a vain rebellion.
When the purifying radiance of Divine Light strikes, the Tower collapses in a cascade of filth and howls, swept away by celestial justice. Their ascent is but an echo of their eternal damnation, a living parable of the conflict between shadow and light, creation and corruption. Thus ends their night of destruction, until the next Bascule awakens their voracious hunger again.

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The Impure Blood

During the Vaults, these moments when the stars falter and the skies tremble, the Vorabyssiem emerge from the earth's bowels, borne by a black, thick, and viscous blood. This fluid, more akin to a liquid shadow than a vital essence, is their anchor to the material world. Under the daylight, it flows slowly, like a harbinger of despair, leaving behind a dark imprint that corrupts the ground it touches.

This dark blood is paradoxically vulnerable to seawater. Should a drop of this sacred water touch it, the blood is purified, its corruption dissipating as light dispels shadows. However, this remedy does not directly affect the Vorabyssiem themselves: their physical form resists the salty water, remaining a challenge for those who seek to fight them. This double paradox fuels the tales of the priests of the rays, who interpret it as a weakness granted by Light to counter the growing influence of Shadow.
But the Vorabyssiem are shifting beings, masters of a singular metamorphosis. They can, at will, abandon their physical form to become a flowing liquid, a tide of creeping darkness. In this form, they slip between worlds, bypassing barriers and evading mortal blows. Yet this transformation, though terrifying, makes them vulnerable: they lose their structure and strength, becoming easy to disperse and contain for those who master the proper rituals.
The blood of the Vorabyssiem, a symbol of the broken link between darkness and the earth, is both their strength and their burden, an enigma incarnate in a fluid that defies the laws of nature and bears the unspeakable secrets of their creation.

Anatomy

These creatures bear nightmarish forms, the result of uncontrolled mutation where flesh intertwines with vegetation. Some sport animal-like limbs, while others display masses of roots or misshapen floral buds. At the heart of these infernal flowers, a Judging Eye seems to observe the world with a gaze of eternal accusation. No two forms are alike: each Vorabyssiem is unique, a living canvas of despair and horror. What they all share, however, is their insatiable hunger. More than flesh or blood, they thirst for souls themselves, consuming them to prolong their dark existence. It is said that when the cry of a Vorabyssiem resonates, it calls the living to their doom, drawing them into the abyss of their cursed appetite. Born from darkness and forged by instinct, the Vorabyssiem embody the truth of the Abyssal: twisted creation, purposeless life, and eternity dedicated to destruction.

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Forbidden Rites: Sealed Darkness

In the dark times following the Vaults, when the Vorabyssiem rose from the rotting earth, some among the living, consumed by despair or thirst for power, dared to undertake forbidden rites to subjugate these creatures of the abyss. These rituals sought to seal the essence of the Vorabyssiem, ripped from their physical forms, trapping them as their dark fluid crystallized into a tainted gem at the heart of a cursed talisman.
Originally, these talismans were a defense against darkness, sanctified in blessed seawater to prevent their corruption. Yet, they became as much prisons as weapons. Those who attempted to manipulate these talismans often found themselves consumed by the shadows. Even when trapped, the Vorabyssiem never forgot. Their hatred permeated the talisman, slowly eroding the will of its bearer until, in a moment of weakness, the prison shattered, unleashing a fury that could not be contained.
Ancient grimoires and archaic myths whisper of a sinister pact, where the communion of the soul between the living and the Vorabyssiem leads to inevitable ruin. A precarious balance that, in the end, leaves the soul of the living drifting toward Shadow, while the Vorabyssien, insatiable, absorbs the corruption to grow stronger.