Abaddon
Culture
Major language groups and dialects
Abaddons learn to wield languages as deftly as they do their weapons. While Common remains essential for interacting with outsiders, most enclaves also teach a native dialect tied to their home region. Each clan tends to develop its own variation of these ancestral tongues: the Ebon Oath calls theirs “Ghraim,” a harsh but measured speech that resonates with the clan’s solemn devotion to Crow; the Ashen Ward speaks “Darach,” often characterized by clipped consonants that snap like tensioned wire; the Crimson Dominion’s favored dialect is “Vorath,” a sinuous language laced with subtle undertones suggesting unspoken deals; the Dreadscale Court refers to its regal-sounding tongue as “Saevus,” each syllable rolling with quiet authority; the Ashwalkers use a sparse, truncated form called “Khaer,” shaped by constant travel and frugal expressions; and the Pale Devotees whisper “Xalth,” a dialect riddled with elliptical phrases that hint at forbidden lore. Each name sets the tone of its users, reflecting how the clans shape their words the same way they shape their weapons.
Beyond these regional tongues, Abaddons are exposed to multiple specialized languages through the Fade’s curriculum or by necessity in the Abyss. Many train in Malum, a conduit to dark arts with its unnerving whispers, whether for negotiating with abyssal beings or scaring foes witless. Some enclaves even treat Malum fluency as a badge of distinction, a signal of readiness to court infernal power. On the other hand, Kalos is an ethereal angelic chorus so piercing that unprepared ears risk permanent damage. Few Abaddons bother learning it, though those who do—perhaps to undermine Celestials or unravel holy wards—gain a haunting prestige that unsettles both mortal and immortal onlookers. Undercommon often serves as an everyday bridge in the Abyss, connecting Abaddons with imps, devils, and other shadowy creatures. Roving Ashwalkers sometimes favor it over Common when forging alliances or avoiding lurkers in the underworld, while enclaves bordering goblinoid fronts pick up Krix to command or bargain with those tribes.
Certain Abaddons delve into more esoteric tongues, sometimes through dogged scholarship or direct brushes with the supernatural. Verven, gentle and songlike, oddly contrasts their harsh environment; it appeals mainly to archivists or diplomats seeking to soothe tension. Deeper down, warlocks and scouts might dabble with Vuka, rumored to commune with Ruin beasts, though attempts to master it can end badly when the teacher is just as likely to devour the student. Meanwhile, demons sometimes force Abaddons to resort to Bol—a chaos of screeches and contortions that can unsettle even lesser demon hordes. Specialized interpreters exploit Bol to escalate or defuse infernal negotiations on a razor’s edge. Whether one hisses Malum in a pitstone crypt or calls out a crisp note of Ghraim (their home-region dialect) to a fellow warrior, Abaddons wield language with the same deadly intent that defines their lives, blending the natural ferocity of the Abyss with cunning use of forbidden phrases.
Culture and cultural heritage
Survival Ethos
The starting point for any discussion of Abaddon culture is their uncompromising survival ethos. Raised amid the lethal environment of the Abyss, each Abaddon grows up acutely aware that no cosmic law guarantees safety or longevity. Instead, they rely on strict discipline, honed physical and magical ability, and a quick willingness to kill when necessary. Shared adversity in the Abyss drives them to adopt pragmatic cooperation with clanmates—or, at minimum, to maintain minimal conflict within their own enclaves. Despite occasional friction among the clans, Abaddons broadly agree on several unwritten “rules”: that power gaps should be respected, that Crow’s dominion over death cannot be superseded, and that necromancy represents a vile corruption to be stamped out. However, the expression of these beliefs varies. Some enclaves keep an austere approach (like the Ebon Oath), while others (Crimson Dominion) deploy cunning manipulations. Yet each remains resolutely focused on adapting and enduring in a domain that tests them at every turn.Martial and Magical Prowess
A hallmark of Abaddon culture is the emphasis on martial and magical prowess. Their societies cherish the notion of might equating to survival, instilling skills that range from weapon mastery to devil-binding incantations. Even those who do not undertake the Grim Knight path usually demonstrate above-average aptitude for defending themselves. Survival is elevated as a cultural cornerstone, sometimes surpassing gentler values such as empathy or mercy. This foundational acceptance that “force is necessary” shapes how they relate to each other—straight talk, short tempers, and rapid escalation if threatened. Magic, too, finds acceptance in most Abaddon enclaves, though it usually complements martial skill rather than standing alone. Whether a warlock forging pacts in the Crimson Dominion or a fighter-mage from the Ebon Oath using spells that expedite death’s arrival, the Abaddons wield arcane might with the same utilitarian stance they apply to swords or spears. There is no moral pause before dispatching an enemy with a blast of void magic: if it secures victory and upholds Crow’s broader design, it is considered valid.Abyssal Roots & Historical Unity
Deep beneath the surface, the Abyss sculpts every Abaddon’s worldview. Oral traditions recount how the earliest Abaddons were shaped from Grave Devil essence under Crow’s guidance, fashioned to be unflinching wardens against undeath and cosmic meddling. These stories reference colossal battles in the endless Pitstone corridors, forging a heritage of stoicism and deadly competence. While Abaddons might interpret these ancient epics through different lenses—some see them as purely allegorical, others treat them as literal scripture—the sense of a shared origin remains potent. Over the centuries, repeated expansions and collapses of enclaves spurred Abaddons to adapt quickly or risk annihilation. The presence of the Fade, presumably older than any single enclave, grounds their historical continuity. Even in modern times, no Abaddon can completely reject the Fade’s legacy: it is the gateway that systematically reshapes children into lethal survivors, perpetuating a cultural lineage as old as the plane’s darkness itself.Legacy of Crow’s Dominion
For most Abaddons, cultural heritage includes reverence toward Crow, the deity representing death, secrets, and the transition from mortal life. This devotion goes beyond formal worship; it permeates daily habits, from how they handle remains (swift, minimal ceremonies) to their willingness to employ lethal force. In certain enclaves like the Ebon Oath, major life events—hatching, reaching adulthood, obtaining Grim Knight status—are contextualized as part of Crow’s eternal plan. Meanwhile, other clans—like the Pale Devotees—use twisted interpretations of those same legends to pursue doomsday ambitions (resurrecting Abaddon the First, for example). Regardless of ideology, Crow’s shadow looms large, forging an unbroken thread through the Abaddons’ collective heritage.Clan Divergence & Common Origins
Though modern Abaddons split into the six recognized clans, each group retains core elements of the original Abaddon mold. Even the most radical outliers—Ashwalkers who shun the Abyss, Pale Devotees who bleach themselves and adopt shark-like teeth—truly hold to the abiding sense that death is not to be feared. Their methods and moral stances vary, yet all trace lineage back to the same formative era in the plane’s early days. The tension between unity and distinct clan identity defines much of Abaddon history, with alliances shifting depending on perceived threats from devils, undead outbreaks, or the arrival of meddling mortals.The Role of Six Daggers Academy
Six Daggers Academy is more than a school: it is a crucible that transmutes the core Abaddon worldview into functional, battle-ready discipline. Graduates exit with a near-celebratory attitude toward lethal encounters, fully in line with the cultural standard that sees violence as an expected tool. This academy fosters a sense of shared heritage across enclaves by teaching the same fundamental doctrines, albeit with specialized tracks that reflect local clan tendencies. Aspiring Grim Knights often receive direct indoctrination here, solidifying the cycle of knowledge and worldview established by the Fade.Cynical Trust & Token Exchanges
While Abaddons are not inclined to personal warmth, they do exhibit a distinct form of communal support. Trades of “Tokens of Resolve” underscore a pragmatic bond: “I give you this tool because your survival aids my interests, and your betrayal would violate our unspoken code.” Over time, these tokens accumulate, telling a silent tale of alliances, debts, and battles faced together. This phenomenon highlights a cultural heritage of forging alliances through necessity and controlled mutual trust, rather than emotional closeness.Battlefield Indomitability
In many ways, the Abaddons’ near-fearless battle approach serves as a living testament to their heritage. Forebears taught them to stare down monstrous devils, undead hordes, and cataclysmic planar forces without flinching. Thus, modern Abaddons uphold that reputation when they muster for war—be it defending a meager clot in the Abyss from savage predators or launching an incursion into enemy territory. Other societies see them as formidable for precisely this reason: they know no moral recoil against bloodshed and experience little dread of death.Abyssal Threats & Shifts
Because the Abyss itself is in constant motion—vein collapses, ichor surges, the unstoppable advance of Asylums—Abaddons must perpetually adapt. Over time, enclaves rise, fracture, or reform, and new pockets of power (or bizarre cults) emerge. Despite external transformations, Abaddons maintain their hallmark readiness to kill and be killed, sustained by a heritage of stoic perseverance and acceptance of Crow’s ultimate claim.Internal Schisms & Adaptability
Clan differences can appear irreconcilable, from the Ebon Oath’s pious stance to the Crimson Dominion’s devilish contracts. Even so, a baseline identity persists. Shared combat doctrines, the ubiquitous presence of the Fade’s training, and a deeply ingrained acceptance of lethal solutions unify them when existential threats loom. Whether that unity can endure radical evolutions—like the Pale Devotees seeking an apocalypse—remains an ongoing question. Nevertheless, the Abaddons’ capacity to endure despite centuries of upheaval hints that their culture and heritage have a certain resilience, shaped by darkness and tempered by necessity.Shared customary codes and values
Abaddons live by a guiding principle that lethal force is neither good nor evil, merely the hand that enforces one’s will. From early childhood, this conviction is pressed upon them by mentors in the Fade, who treat empathy and compassion as indulgences that can lead to ruin. Rather than question the morality of killing, Abaddons deem it natural as breathing—something to be embraced without hesitation. This detachment fosters a tight but unsentimental unity, where members of an enclave respect one another’s capacity for violence, trusting that no one wastes time with half-measures when fate or Crow’s purpose demands action.
Another widespread code is the fierce reverence for the finality of death. Abaddons recognize necromancy as a perversion of life’s cycle—an interference with Crow’s domain—and treat it as an abomination. Whether a fallen comrade or a worthy adversary, the corpse is off-limits once death has claimed it (unless it’s to be eaten, should no funeral rite or vow protect it). Souls belong to Crow; to seize them from that claim disrupts the sacred boundary every Abaddon has been taught to uphold. For the same reason, elaborate funerals are rare, yet swift disposal of bodies—often with curses laid to prevent undead reanimation—remains the norm.
Also central to Abaddon society is the acceptance of hierarchy born from proven might or cunning. Grim Knights, revered for their mastery of Crow’s teachings, frequently command enclaves or act as decisive enforcers. But even outside their circles, elders maintain influence through example, having survived the most battles or hunts. Abaddons hold loyalty in high esteem—betrayal can set off lethal vendettas—while alliances often hinge on raw survival, forcing each participant to stand firm or risk swift retribution if they falter. One’s word, once given, cannot be broken without consequence; the moment trust shatters, the sword follows.
All these customs unify Abaddons across clans, from devout Crow-Loyalists to more devil-aligned factions. Despite differing religious fervor or territorial ambitions, they share a core set of truths: life is temporary, death is a sacred crossing, and violence is the unblinking tool that shapes existence. Each clan has unique flourishes—ritual hunts, blood-oath pacts, or a drive to conquer external foes—but at heart, every Abaddon knows that these codes bind them through the harsh labyrinth of the Abyss and beyond.
Common Etiquette rules
It’s widely accepted among Abaddons that words should be used sparingly and only when they serve a purpose. Because survival is paramount in the Abyss, every conversation tends toward directness rather than pleasantries, which can appear superfluous. Eye contact is often brief but pointed, a means of confirming presence without overstepping boundaries. Open displays of strong emotion—whether rage, joy, or sorrow—are uncommon, in part due to conditioning from youth that warns against showing vulnerability. When conflict arises, individuals are expected to stand by their argument and, if necessary, resolve it through swift confrontation rather than drawn-out debate.
Most social cues stem from a communal understanding of lethal force as a normal tool. Hence, it’s standard etiquette to give a respectful berth to recognized warriors or Grim Knights, acknowledging their capacity to kill without hesitation. Bowing or kneeling is rare, unless one is formally challenging or submitting to someone’s authority, and even then, the gesture is kept minimal. In place of elaborate civilities, short nods or a terse acknowledgment of skill substitute for flattery or gratitude. Although blunt, these customs reinforce the Abaddons’ culture of efficiency and clarity.
Common Dress code
Practicality governs every choice of attire. Abaddons favor garments made from tough fungal fibers or specialized leather-like materials taken from denizens of the Abyss, sewn into fitted forms that won’t hinder quick movement. Layers are common, allowing an Abaddon to adapt if the Abyss’s volatile climate shifts from frigid to steaming in a matter of corridors. Colors gravitate toward subdued grays, blacks, and browns, aiding in stealth. Pieces are sometimes reinforced with small plates of pitstone or hammered metal, lending protection without requiring full-scale armor.
Subtle personal touches do exist. Some wear tokens from victories—claws, teeth, or fragments of cursed relics—stitched into collars or belts as silent markers of status. Among the aristocratic enclaves, such as the Dreadscale Court, attire can be slightly more ornate, weaving illusions or scaled motifs into cloaks and pauldrons. Even then, these embellishments rarely interfere with combat readiness. From cloaked wanderers to heavy-lidded warriors, each Abaddon’s clothing speaks of readiness for conflict more than any desire for embellishment.
Art & Architecture
Though the Abyss offers few luxuries, Abaddons do create. Their sculptures and carvings favor stark imagery, often etched directly into Pitstone walls. Scenes of decisive battles or devils subdued underfoot reflect an acceptance of violence that outsiders might deem grim. Many enclaves also line corridors with runic inscriptions that double as wards or directional markers. These inscriptions, though practical, feature angular, evocative patterns that confer a rudimentary aesthetic—a sign that Abaddons, while pragmatic, are not blind to the power of visual storytelling.
Settlement design reflects function over flourish. Carved halls feature angled ceilings that combat collapse, forming a labyrinth of defensive choke points. Antechambers near entrances act as muster zones or trap-laden kill spaces to deter intruders. Some enclaves layer illusions into archways, melding the raw stone with phantasmal images of crows or skeletal motifs that subtly remind all who enter of Crow’s domain. In the few stable strongholds where clan governance flourishes, a central chamber might display more elaborate craftsmanship: columns carved to resemble bound devils or enshrined tributes to Crow, bridging the gap between raw survival and a deeper, if stark, artistic expression.
Foods & Cuisine
Abaddons are notorious for their utter lack of culinary taboos, a stance rooted in the simple conviction that whatever is slain may be eaten, so long as it isn’t protected by a special rite or covenant. There is no moral stumbling when they pull fresh meat from a fallen foe—so long as that foe wasn’t a revered ally or consecrated figure. This acceptance of all flesh, be it beast or “civilized” foe, means Abaddon enclaves never truly starve for protein, and each generation of cooks takes full advantage of the variety. The further one travels in the Abyss, the more remarkable the stories of Abaddons who adapted local monstrosities into staple diets. Even so, certain recurring themes and techniques unite all Abaddon cuisines, giving them a distinct identity wherever they roam.
Most enclaves rely on a rotating supply of cavern creatures, parasitic fungal blooms, and the meat of unfortunates who cross Abaddon paths. Over time, these raw ingredients have spawned an array of signature dishes. Maledra is a robust stew simmered in thick fungus drippings and layered with shredded muscle or offal, sometimes fresh from a battlefield. Cooks steep it for cycles in sealed pitstone vats, letting flavors intensify to a dark, haunting richness. Vekra, on the other hand, embraces sharper taste: organ meat is minced with pungent abyssal lichens, pressed into small dumplings, and boiled until the morsels exude a mouth-tingling sourness. Where possible, both Maledra and Vekra are garnished with a sprinkling of dried, finely ground bone dust—imparting a subtle grit that Abaddons find oddly comforting.
Some enclaves experiment further, especially those with ready access to Abyssal water sources or other planes. Trilask is a prime example: cuts of aquatic monstrosities, salted in harsh brine, then roasted over devil-flame, producing a bark-like crust. The marinade often includes drops of Sunder, a thick sauce brewed from distilled ichor and pickled herbs that amplify the natural tang of the flesh. Cooks sometimes add chunks of twisted root vegetation, giving each bite a blend of mineral and acidic flavors. To outsiders, Trilask reeks of brine and corruption, yet Abaddons relish the bold taste as a testament to life thriving in darkness.
When Abaddons crave variety, they turn to Xhaul, a simple yet satisfying method of barbecuing sinewy bits, many of which come from the massive predators that stalk the deeper veins of the Abyss. Strips of muscle and tendon are skewered with pitstone shards and grilled quickly, each side lightly charred. The result is both chewy and smoky, often served with a side portion of moldering fungal caps that are fried in leftover grease. If a kill yields especially prized organs—like certain hearts rumored to heighten one’s sensitivity to devilish magic—these might be featured in a variant of Xhaul called Draif, though only a few enclaves know the seasoning that reduces the intense metallic tang of raw organ.
Special occasions bring out even more infamous dishes, most notably Khalix. In enclaves that celebrate major victories—or mark the downfall of an especially formidable enemy—Khalix involves slicing prime cuts from the defeated champion and preserving them with a pungent salt that contains trace demonic minerals. Over a few intervals, the meat acquires a near-black color, intensifying both flavor and its rumored mystical aura. To serve Khalix is to honor the one who fell, acknowledging their strength by partaking of it. Some enclaves coat each slice in a fine dust of powdered pitstone to reflect that it was the plane itself that witnessed and sanctioned their triumph.
While many outside cultures label Abaddon cuisine as barbaric, those raised in the Abyss champion it as a reality of life where resources are scarce and survival is never guaranteed. Their names—Maledra, Vekra, Trilask, Xhaul, Sunder, and Khalix—evoke the plane’s tumultuous energy and the willingness of Abaddons to transform that chaos into sustenance. In the end, every meal underscores an unspoken law: only those who can endure the darkest flavors truly thrive in the Abyss. And for an Abaddon, there is no greater satisfaction than tasting, in every bite, the affirmation that devouring one’s foes can be an homage to the endless cycle of death and dominion.
Common Customs, traditions and rituals
Foundational Mindset: Violence as Neutral & Death as Transition
From an early age—often around six “cycles” of growth—Abaddon children undergo systematic conditioning to eliminate moral reservations about taking life. Under the guidance of the Fade, youngsters learn that killing is no crime in itself; it is merely a tool to enforce will, preserve one’s enclave, or honor Crow’s dominion over death. By the time these young Abaddons complete the Fade’s program or enroll at Six Daggers Academy, they have internalized a key belief: death is not an end to be feared but rather a passage that brings one closer to Crow. This perspective imbues Abaddons with a grim readiness to act lethally, as well as a near-total lack of fear regarding their own mortality.Childhood & The Fade’s Influence
The Fade is older than any known Abaddon enclave. Once Abaddon hatchlings reach about six cycles, they are placed under the Fade’s care. Sessions blend physical drills, mental discipline, and a slow erosion of empathy for outsiders. Good-natured impulses—like sparing a wounded foe—are systematically discouraged. Through this brutal curriculum, Abaddons learn to view violence as a neutral act: sometimes necessary, sometimes expedient, but never inherently “wrong.” For an Abaddon, the real sin is allowing one’s mission or Crow’s intent to be thwarted by misplaced mercy.Core Rites of Passage
Coming of Age (Abyssal Threshold)
Around sixteen cycles—or upon finishing the Fade’s basic training—Abaddons undertake an Abyssal Threshold ordeal. This typically involves navigating an unmapped section of the Abyss, with minimal supplies or magical assistance. The goal is to emerge alive and mentally intact, proving readiness to integrate fully into Abaddon society. Though the trial varies by clan, every version tests resourcefulness, composure, and the willingness to kill without hesitation if survival demands it.Full Initiation (Advanced or Grim Knight Tracks)
Some Abaddons continue beyond this threshold toward specialized paths, notably the Grim Knight vocation. This requires an additional trial known as the Veil of Crow’s Ire. Over a set interval, aspirants must demonstrate unwavering faith in Crow and a near-total mastery of lethal force—sometimes by hunting undead, confronting devils, or surviving punishing illusions. Failure can lead to exile, a return to lower-caste roles, or even death, depending on the clan’s stance.Funerary & Memorial Customs
Death as Evolution
In keeping with the belief that death is a transition to Crow’s direct presence, Abaddons treat a corpse with practical reverence. Out of respect for the deceased’s journey to Crow—and a deep hatred of necromancy—Abaddons work diligently to ensure remains cannot be raised or defiled. Typically, a small, solemn gathering takes place in a pocket of cursed ground, where incantations or physical wards seal the body’s fate. The dead are not typically memorialized with lengthy eulogies; instead, a concise statement that honors their deeds suffices.Sealing the Remains
Clans like the Ashen Ward might surround the body with elaborate anti-undead wards, while the Ebon Oath calls upon Grim Knights to lend spiritual weight. More flamboyant enclaves, such as the Dreadscale Court, wrap their fallen in draconic-themed regalia. Even the solitary Ashwalkers or nomadic individuals in small bands follow a scaled-down version: a quick, unceremonious burial that ensures no necromancer can corrupt the departed’s final rest.Birth & Brood Mantle Customs
The Brood Mantle
Central to Abaddon procreation is the Brood Mantle, an organ active only within the Abyss. One “Prime” in the enclave emits specialized genetic spores that blend with complementary essences, producing egg-like clutches in specialized brood-chambers. Once hatched, newborns undergo a brief but potent “Cinder Reception”: elders or Grim Knights pass a dim, dark flame over each hatchling, symbolically binding them to Crow’s domain. There is little in the way of maternal-paternal bonding; rearing is often communal, with caretakers rotating between brood-chamber duties, training, and potential Fade roles.Minimal Familial Attachment
Outside societies might be disturbed by the detachment Abaddons show toward their young—there is minimal coddling or familial warmth. Instead, emphasis falls on ensuring the brood adapts quickly. Within a few cycles, the children are handed over to the Fade, cementing their path toward a life of disciplined violence.Collective Gatherings & Festivities
Feasts of the Pit
Abaddons do gather for events known colloquially as Feasts of the Pit. These take place to acknowledge communal milestones: an alliance, successful hunts, or the conclusion of a major threat. Though the specifics vary:- Ashen Ward: Transform the feast into a debrief on undead exterminations, with an undercurrent of planning the next purge.
- Ashwalkers: Rarely hold large gatherings; any “feast” is modest and often improvised, reflecting their independence.
- Crimson Dominion: Intertwine feasts with infernal bargains, often culminating in contract signings.
- Dreadscale Court: Emphasize aristocratic pageantry, weaving illusions of dragons into the dim lighting.
- Ebon Oath: Begin proceedings with invocations to Crow, solemnly toasting life’s impermanence.
- Pale Devotees: Their gatherings are sinister affairs focused on reviving Abaddon the First—festive only in an apocalyptic sense, and usually shunned by other Abaddons.
Exchange of Tokens
Another near-universal tradition is exchanging small, functional items as tokens of partnership or gratitude. Called “Tokens of Resolve,” these can be daggers, carved pitstone trinkets, or vials of extracted ichor, each etched with runes. Carrying a token implies a promise of support or solidarity. Among the Crimson Dominion, such tokens might carry subtle infernal references, while the Dreadscale Court might embellish them with decorative flair. For Ashwalkers, however, simplicity rules: a short blade or a handful of rations suffice.Isolation & the Abyssal Vigil
All Abaddon enclaves accept the Abyssal Vigil as a ritual of introspection and recalibration. Abaddons choose a stretch of tunnel where the gloom is nearly absolute, sometimes guided only by a faint glow of fungal spores or a single Devil’s Beacon orb. They pass an interval alone, pondering the fragility of life, the brutality of the Abyss, and their own readiness to kill or be killed.Clan-Specific Nuances
- Ashen Ward: Might actively seek out a lesser undead to eradicate during the Vigil, reaffirming their vow to purge such abominations.
- Ashwalkers: Their Vigil might be just another night in a lonely corridor, but the custom remains.Ashwalkers: Their Vigil might be just another night in a lonely corridor, but the custom remains.
- Crimson Dominion: Some risk direct contact with lesser devils during the Vigil to strengthen infernal bonds.
- Dreadscale Court: Load the Vigil with illusions or symbolic battles—emerging triumphant is seen as a matter of personal honor.
- Ebon Oath: Treat the Vigil like a spiritual retreat, focusing on the weight of Crow’s judgments.
- Pale Devotees: Warping the norm, they attempt to connect with the essence of Abaddon the First, intensifying mainstream Abaddons’ loathing of them.
The Pale Devotees & Broader Abyssal Hierarchy
Fringes of the Community
The newly recognized Pale Devotees carry a twisted commitment to resurrecting Abaddon the First in hopes of plunging civilization into oblivion. They bleach their skin and tattoo intricate 666 motifs across their bodies, openly defying mainstream Abaddon enclaves. Shark-like teeth complete their predatory aesthetic, and their utter disregard for treaties or moral codes makes them a pariah among Abaddons. Still, their violent convictions fit neatly into the overarching acceptance of bloodshed as a tool, meaning that while other Abaddons hate them, they understand the roots of that fanaticism. Far From the Top Abaddons, for all their might, remain outclassed by the older and mightier denizens of the Abyss—Devourers, colossal True Devils, or the random horrors emerging from Void Rifts. Thus, Abaddons continue honing their merciless skill, forging alliances, and mastering new forms of lethal magic in hopes of staying alive in the endless darkness. They stand as deadly antagonists to many outsiders, yet they know their own existence hinges on ceaseless vigilance and the readiness to sacrifice or be sacrificed for Crow.Social Expectations & Behavioral Norms
Reserved Demeanor & Swift Action
Abaddons seldom mask their capacity for lethal force; they see little need for empty pleasantries. Those who have completed the Fade’s training display an automatic inclination to weigh each conversation’s tactical angle. When conflict erupts, it’s settled decisively—either through a quick skirmish or a strategic arrangement of alliances. Public recognition of bravery or skill seldom goes beyond a curt nod or a short phrase like “You stood firm,” but in Abaddon culture, such minimal praise can carry great weight.Handling Outsiders
Outsider interactions vary by clan. The Ashwalkers tend to avoid non-Abaddon societies entirely, while the Crimson Dominion might engage in cautious pacts for mutual benefit. Yet all Abaddons share an unspoken principle: do not let mortal or outsider values dilute your capacity for violence or overshadow Crow’s primary claim on death. If a non-Abaddon group tries to impose moral judgments about killing, the Abaddons typically respond with indifference—or hostility if pressed.The Pale Devotees & Broader Abyssal Hierarchy
Fringes of the Community
The newly recognized Pale Devotees carry a twisted commitment to resurrecting Abaddon the First in hopes of plunging civilization into oblivion. They bleach their skin and tattoo intricate 666 motifs across their bodies, openly defying mainstream Abaddon enclaves. Shark-like teeth complete their predatory aesthetic, and their utter disregard for treaties or moral codes makes them a pariah among Abaddons. Still, their violent convictions fit neatly into the overarching acceptance of bloodshed as a tool, meaning that while other Abaddons hate them, they understand the roots of that fanaticism.Far From the Top
Abaddons, for all their might, remain outclassed by the older and mightier denizens of the Abyss—Devourers, colossal True Devils, or the random horrors emerging from Void Rifts. Thus, Abaddons continue honing their merciless skill, forging alliances, and mastering new forms of lethal magic in hopes of staying alive in the endless darkness. They stand as deadly antagonists to many outsiders, yet they know their own existence hinges on ceaseless vigilance and the readiness to sacrifice or be sacrificed for Crow.Birth & Baptismal Rites
Abyssal Reproduction & the Brood Mantle
Unlike the conventional mammalian processes that many surface races expect, Abaddons rely on a specialized organ called the Brood Mantle to produce and fertilize eggs—an adaptation inseparable from the energy fields of the Abyss. When an Abaddon enclave recognizes a need for increased population, one dominant individual—often named the Prime—undergoes a transition over several crucial cycles. This transformation is synced to the Abyss’s own flows, rather than a diurnal day-and-night. Subtle pulses of devilish energy course through the Prime’s body, “activating” the Brood Mantle so it can emit latent genetic spores. During this prime activation, the Brood Mantle resonates with the surrounding Abaddons, prompting them to produce complementary spore essences. These collect and mingle in secluded brood-chambers, carved from Pitstone and thick with ambient corruption. There, fertilized egg-like clutches form amidst drifting clouds of devilish residue. The eggs remain in these brood-chambers until they are ready to hatch, nurtured by the roiling energies that saturate the Abyss. Crucially, this entire process only works within the Abyss itself: outside its endless tunnels, the Brood Mantle remains inert and cannot initiate reproduction. Scholars among the Cult of the First Crow suggest that only the Abyss’s raw, mutable corruption can catalyze this bizarre method of procreation.Birth & Cinder Reception
Hatching occurs when the developing eggs sense a particular surge or shift in the local Abyssal environment—perhaps an ichor flow intensifies, or a new Asylum passage disturbs the Pitstone. Young Abaddons slip free of their protective shells, emerging into the dim glow of Devil’s Beacon or fungus-fed luminescence. Elders gather to perform a solemn rite called the Cinder Reception. Grim Knights and senior members of the Fade line up to greet the hatchlings, chanting archaic verses praising Crow for bestowing life within a realm of unending decay. Each newborn is briefly exposed to a flicker of conjured flame—sourced from the watchers’ Devil’s Beacons—to seal their bond with the Abyss. Many believe this “baptism” sparks a fledgling resilience, an internal bulwark against the realm’s pervasive corruption. Having no day or night to mark time, the reception’s conclusion is signaled by a waning pulse of the watchers’ Beacons. The community then takes over care, guiding these fresh Abaddons in the earliest steps of survival amid Pitstone mazes and unpredictable ichor surges.Physical Vestiges & Outsider Confusion
Abaddons do possess certain external, mammalian-like traits—breasts, familiar genital structures—but these serve little reproductive function for their own kind. In most enclaves, these features are considered evolutionary remnants or convenient decoys for interacting with outsiders. Among other humanoid races, bodily intimacy can be a potent bargaining chip, and Abaddons sometimes leverage these traits for alliances. Yet such contact among themselves is largely inconsequential; the true miracle of their perpetuation lies in the Brood Mantle and its synergy with the Abyss’s energies. From a mortal’s perspective, this entire cycle seems alien—especially the notion that the Prime can spontaneously change roles or that conceptions occur via spore interactions rather than direct intercourse. Many find it perplexing that Abaddons appear entirely uninvested in surface notions of romance, with no standard “family units” analogous to humans or dwarves. Still, the Abaddons thrive in a domain shaped by chaos and corruption. Their approach to reproduction mirrors that same adaptability, ensuring that every clutch strengthens their enclaves’ roots in the harsh domain Crow granted them.Coming of Age Rites
From an early age, all Abaddon children experience rigorous conditioning under the Fade, yet it is their formal Coming of Age rites that cement their identity. By tradition, at around sixteen—when a young Abaddon is seen as edging into adulthood—each must endure a ceremonial ordeal known as the Abyssal Threshold. This event occurs deep in the winding tunnels of the Abyss, amid sections of cursed ground where the faint luminescence of Devil’s Beacon orbs flickers off jagged pitstone walls. Regardless of one’s future aspirations, the Abyssal Threshold remains universal: participants must survive a night alone in these disorienting passageways. They carry minimal supplies and no magical boons, facing illusions, lurking devils, and the crushing silence of the deep. Surviving fosters both fearlessness and respect for the domain they call home, forging bonds among those who emerge together at dawn.
In this first major trial, prospective commoners—Abaddons content to support their enclaves from behind the scenes—mark the end of their quest by presenting a token retrieved during their lonely vigil. Sometimes this item is a broken weapon lodged in pitstone or a small, raw gem cut from the labyrinthine walls. Once shown to local elders, they officially earn their place in adult society. The clan’s leaders then grant them simple roles—barracks guard, forgemaster apprentice, or archivist aide—depending on each Abaddon’s aptitudes. Although these positions don’t carry the same grandeur as a Grim Knight’s calling, they fulfill vital needs in Abaddon enclaves. Through fulfilling those responsibilities, everyday Abaddons uphold the race’s resilience and unity in the Abyss.
The Grim Knight Path
For those who set their sights on becoming Grim Knights, the second part of their Coming of Age is more harrowing. After surviving the Abyssal Threshold, these ambitious youths undertake a week-long regimen called the Veil of Crow’s Ire. Overseen by seasoned Grim Knights and/or Six Daggers Academy mentors, it tests not merely endurance but also unwavering devotion to Crow’s doctrine. In a bleak, sealed chamber of black pitstone, prospective initiates endure daily combat trials against summoned devils, forced to prove they can channel the Abaddon’s inherited devilish might responsibly. Alongside these battles, they must also perform ritual ceremonies that solidify their bond with Crow—entreating the deity for approval to hunt undead or curb necromantic menaces. At the ritual’s climax, a sponsor—sometimes an elder Grim Knight or an Abaddon Conclave official—brands the initiate’s weapon or armor with Crow’s sigil. This final branding symbolizes an unbreakable oath: the fledgling Grim Knight will spend their life enforcing the boundary between life and death, sending spirits on if they linger past their ordained time. Succeeding here grants them a seat in more advanced training circles, potentially leading on to full Grim Knight recognition. Failing or faltering partway can result in public disgrace or even a forced re-evaluation by the Fade, and some vanish entirely if found unworthy.A Balancing Act
Regardless of their chosen path, every Abaddon emerges from these rites with a renewed sense of purpose. For those opting out of Grim Knight prestige, adulthood brings the steady rhythms of forging weapons, tending knowledge in shadowy archives, or patrolling the periphery of cursed grounds as vigilant scouts. They may not stand at the forefront of grand battles, but their quiet labors knit together the enclaves’ day-to-day stability. Meanwhile, Grim Knight hopefuls press on to refine the abilities that mark their station—manipulating Devil’s Beacons, severing undead ties, and bearing Crow’s authority far beyond the Abyss. Though their goals differ, both types of Abaddons share the same abiding reverence for the cyclical nature of life and death that permeates every stratum of their society. And it is these layered Coming of Age rites—equal parts tradition, danger, and solemn pledge—that shape each new generation in the endless halls of the Abyss.Funerary and Memorial customs
Abyssal Vigil
When an Abaddon passes, their kin enact an “Abyssal Vigil” that would seem deeply unsettling to most human cultures. Under dim, flickering light—often from Devil’s Beacon spheres or baleful flames—they lay the corpse on a slab of carved Pitstone. Over the next two nights, family and comrades keep watch in total silence, while Fade-initiates trace black sigils across the deceased’s skin. These sigils are believed to anchor the soul’s final impression, ensuring it cannot be summoned back into undeath. No prayers for safe passage are offered here, for Abaddons see death as Crow’s unquestionable domain—there is no “comforting journey,” only the reality that one’s essence now belongs to their goddess of Death. On the second night, designated Grim Knights stand guard with drawn weapons, ready to strike down anyone foolish enough to violate the sanctity of the Vigil. This silent, weapon-ready posture underscores the Abaddon dogma that death is final, unbendable, and not to be defiled.Crow’s Claim Rite
At dawn following the Vigil, the body is taken to a hidden cleft within the Abyss known as a “Blooded Sink.” Friends and family gather in concentric circles, chanting verses that are inaudible to outsiders—reciting the departed’s greatest deeds, missteps, and how they served Crow’s larger design. As the chant reaches a crescendo, the body is lowered onto cursed ground consecrated by the Grim Knights. This ensures the corpse cannot be raised or tampered with, sealing the remains under Crow’s protection. Over the burial spot, a piece of the deceased’s armor or a fragment of their weapon—often scorched to remove any chance of reuse—serves as a memorial marker. Unlike typical human gravestones inscribed with kindly epitaphs, these relics broadcast the fallen’s power and final submission to Crow. The gathered mourners then partake in a single silent gesture of respect—usually placing a hand on the cursed earth or the scorched artifact—signaling that the spirit’s fate is sealed, and that any future meddling would be a direct affront to Abaddon tradition.Common Taboos
Heretical Use of Undeath
Foremost among Abaddon taboos is the use of necromancy or any magic that cheats Crow’s jurisdiction over life and death. While they can be ruthlessly pragmatic toward killing, the Abaddons recoil at tampering with the finality of death. Within their lore, reanimating a corpse amounts to seizing authority that belongs to Crow alone, corrupting both spirit and natural order. Abaddons who experiment with such magics risk condemnation as heretics, their names erased from records, and their souls forever outcast from Crow’s judgment. Even the most unscrupulous Grim Knight typically stops short of necromantic acts, for fear of inciting Crow’s wrathful displeasure. This taboo extends beyond mere prohibition of raising the dead. Possession by wraiths, partial undead transformations, or siphoning souls through forbidden rites—any practice that traps or twists mortal essence—is seen as an existential affront to Abaddon purpose. Scholars in the Cult of the First Crow often study the intricacies of necromantic magic only to learn its weaknesses, ensuring their people can eradicate such threats swiftly. If an Abaddon is discovered orchestrating necromantic pacts, they are tried before the Ebony Conclave, often leading to a grim verdict: death by ritual that locks their soul from ever touching Crow’s realm again.Betrayal of the Abyss
The Abyss, while punishing and capricious, is still considered the sacred domain from which the Abaddon draw identity. Tunnels of living Pitstone, clusters of cursed ground, and the swirling energies that echo Crow’s presence all shape daily life. Turning against the Abyss or seeking to seal it away with powerful wards is seen as a betrayal—akin to rejecting one’s own bloodline. Legends talk of traitors who tried to harness planar magic to stabilize or “purify” the Abyss, ultimately warping it into something unrecognizable. The fear persists that meddling with this realm could weaken the Abaddon race’s very foundation, robbing them of the shadows they call home. Because the Abaddons believe their power is knitted into the Abyss’s nature, tampering with it is a trespass that garners immediate retaliation. The Ebony Conclave responds harshly to such attempts, whether they come from well-meaning exiles or renegade Grim Knights. Public condemnation is accompanied by hunts that span multiple enclaves; no corner of the Abyss is off-limits when seeking one who would dare “reshape” their birthright. The few recounted instances of this heresy ended in the culprit vanishing—dragged into the Pitstone’s depths by supernatural forces that some say were directed by Crow themselves.Open Defiance of Crow’s Authority
While not every Abaddon is a zealot, nearly all acknowledge Crow’s dominion over death as an unassailable truth. Publicly renouncing Crow, mocking their rites, or ridiculing the Grim Knight’s role in maintaining the death cycle is considered an unforgivable insult. Dissenters might quietly keep their doubts, but open mockery—especially in front of an established Grim Knight or the Fade elders—represents a self-imposed exile. In the eyes of strict traditionalists, such an act severs the spiritual bond that secures one’s soul upon death, branding the heretic a “Lost Shadow” with no claim to Abaddon solidarity. The severity of punishment for this breach varies across enclaves. Some will simply cast the offender out, refusing them shelter or aid. In more devout strongholds, retribution can be swift and brutal: banishment into the most perilous tunnels of the Abyss or forced penance that risks life and limb. Rumors persist of entire enclaves disappearing after powerful dissidents raised open rebellions against Crow, as though the Abyss itself swallowed them in nightmarish retribution. This synergy of belief and fear ensures that, even if individual Abaddons question doctrine, rarely do they voice defiance where others might echo the words.Spilling Abyssal Secrets to Outsiders
Abaddons are famously insular, guarding knowledge of the Abyss’s fluctuations, cursed terrains, and their arcane ties to Pitstone. Sharing such information with non-Abaddons, especially to further rival interests, is a near-universal taboo. Abaddons suspect that letting outsiders meddle in the Abyss will either create new abominations or compromise Crow’s dominion over death. As a result, anyone discovered leaking sensitive knowledge—like the location of hidden enclaves or the workings of Abyssal magic—faces severe consequences ranging from forced “silencing” to a public trial before the Ebony Conclave. This secrecy taboo is embedded in Abaddon upbringing: from the earliest days under the Fade’s watchful eye, children learn to protect the clan’s mysteries above all else. On rare occasions, strategic alliances have led to carefully controlled disclosures—perhaps a snippet of lore to humans who vow to aid in eradicating an undead threat. But such alliances usually come with ironclad oaths. Any breach sees swift retribution not just on the traitor but potentially on entire communities that might have abetted them, underscoring how seriously Abaddons take preserving their clandestine realm.Common Myths and Legends
Many Abaddons recount a layered tale explaining their creation and perpetual link to Crow. According to this myth, Crow, the Keeper of the Dead, enlisted the aid of an ancient Grave Devil to capture the essence of raw entropy from the deepest corners of the Abyss. This energy, combined with mortal clay, sparked the birth of the first Abaddons. Early retellings claim these children were forged to serve as a barrier between the restless dead and the mortal realms. Their ashen skin and fiendish traits came to symbolize both a blessing and a burden: the blessing of immense strength and an unbreakable will, and the burden of animosity and fear from other races. Storytellers add flourishes of ethereal lights that shone in the Abyss for the first and only time, marking the sacred spark of Abaddon life.
Another enduring legend warns of the “Knotted Labyrinth,” a place deep in the Abyss that mirrored each Abaddon’s spirit, twisting illusions with fearsome accuracy. Tradition holds that the first Abaddons tested themselves in these passages to earn Crow’s favor. Surviving entailed not only brute force but also self-confrontation, as illusions exposed their darkest impulses. Over time, the Labyrinth became a symbolic trial—modern Abaddons speak of it often when describing personal battles. Although some consider it just a poetic metaphor, a small sect within the Cult of the First Crow insists the Knotted Labyrinth is real, lying in wait for those who need to prove their devotion to Crow’s grim design.
Historical figures
Abaddon the First
Myths mention that Crow singled out a singular champion early in Abaddon history, calling him simply “Abaddon the First.” While some interpret this as a title held by many, most Abaddons believe it refers to a single near-immortal individual who led the earliest hosts into battle against undead abominations. Tales describe how he rallied newly formed Abaddons to shield mortal communities—though in archaic times, gratitude from those mortals was often replaced by apprehension at Abaddon appearances. His ability to channel grave-power without succumbing to madness placed him on a pedestal among his kin, and many lineages trace their genealogies back to him with reverence. Even after centuries, the name “Abaddon the First” surfaces whenever Abaddons confront existential threats—some hypothesize his spirit still lingers in the Abyss, guiding favored descendants through dreams. Whether literal or symbolic, the legacy he left behind colors Abaddon perception of heroism. By proving that a being of dark origins could protect rather than destroy, he stands as the focal point of countless personal journeys. New Grim Knights sometimes devote their first real victory to Abaddon the First, hoping he watches from the shadows as they define their destinies.Grandmother Asheda
Though not as warrior-like as many Abaddons, Grandmother Asheda is often lauded as the wise matriarch who reshaped pockets of Abaddon culture, particularly regarding their approach to arcane secrets and knowledge. Legends say she once led a faction of mages driven to the edges of the Abyss after quarreling with the Ebony Conclave. Armed with cunning spells and an unyielding faith in Crow, she and her group founded the Archive of the Sunless Veins, a hidden library rumored to hold arcane tomes sealed away from even the most privileged. Unlike other Abaddons who see emotion only as a liability, Grandmother Asheda emphasized measured empathy within her enclave. She argued that properly harnessed emotional awareness strengthened the bonds of an Abaddon pack, preventing the manipulations of outside enemies. While many remain skeptical, Asheda’s influence partly changed how the Fade and the Ebony Conclave view “outliers.” Today, a few corners of Abaddon society quietly embrace some of her more progressive ideas, keeping alive the memory of a figure who valued knowledge and close-knit community as strongly as unstoppable might.The Ebony King
(Founder of the Ebony Conclave) Modern Abaddons hail the Ebony King as the visionary behind the Ebony Conclave. Though details are murky, stories depict him as a formidable leader whose cunning negotiation united fractious Abaddon enclaves into one voice. Some say he fought off entire coalitions of demon princes to defend the newly formed council, forging an unbreakable respect for Crow’s dominion in the process. He often wore an obsidian crown rumored to enhance psychic links among Abaddons, allowing him to coordinate armies with uncanny precision. Under his leadership, the Conclave secured an era of stability in the Abyss, hammering out trade agreements with surface dwellers while vigilantly policing any demonic incursions. He passed into legend after a cataclysmic stand against a plague of undead that threatened both Abaddons and humans. Many claim he sacrificed himself in a ritual that severed a necromantic flow forever, though no one can verify where or how he died. To this day, Conclave members leave a seat empty at each grand meeting, symbolizing the Ebony King’s lasting authority as they shape Abaddon policy.Zarath Vos, The Ravenous Blade
Although not revered, Zarath Vos remains infamous in Abaddon lore for embodying the worst fears that outsiders hold about this race. He emerged multiple times throughout history, appearing unbidden in existing conflicts to slaughter both aggressors and allies with unrelenting fervor. Believing that every death offered more power to Crow, he trampled moral or diplomatic lines countless times. His actions upended entire wars in an afternoon, leaving devastation in his wake and stoking universal hatred of Abaddons among those who survived. Even the Ebony Conclave and the Cult of the First Crow denounce him as a twisted fanatic. Yet the destructive impact of Zarath Vos still lingers, renewing suspicions whenever an Abaddon moves among strangers. To many non-Abaddons, he is proof that dark hearts lurk behind every Abaddon’s ashen face. Grim Knights, in particular, regard him as a cautionary tale—revealing how untempered devotion can escalate into perpetual carnage. Though unrepentant, Zarath’s repeated returns across eras feed legends that he wields a forbidden method to cheat death, sustaining his campaign of brutality as long as it pleases Crow.Ideals
Beauty Ideals
Abaddons tend to appraise one another’s appearance in terms of lethal capability and visible proof of survival rather than conventional grace. To them, a lithe frame taut with muscle or a sturdier form bearing the marks of past victories can be profoundly attractive. Scars, especially those earned from dangerous hunts or battles, stand as a testament to an individual’s willpower and cunning in the face of mortal threats. While a smooth complexion might hold some aesthetic draw in other cultures, Abaddons often see unblemished skin as a sign of limited experience or insufficient exposure to real conflict. Conversely, etched lines or remnants of arcane burns can spark silent respect, hinting at hidden powers or prior brushes with death. These details, small though they may be, weave a tapestry of the warrior’s journey—beauty lies in those silent stories told by the flesh.
Beyond raw physicality, distinct traits that align with Crow or devilish ancestry also captivate Abaddons. Sharp horns, eyes that glitter with Abyssal intensity, and subtle fiendish influences—like darkening around the sclera or faintly glowing tattoos—suggest a closeness to powerful forces that shape their realm. While certain enclaves flaunt illusions to enhance these traits, the appeal endures even in simpler forms: an understated but eerie presence can command as much admiration as elaborate bone-decorated armor. Any modifications—fang filing, for instance, or stylized scarring—are admired so long as they enhance the aura of lethal promise rather than serve as vanity for its own sake. Even subtle gestures, like an imposing stance or a measured, unwavering stare, can be deemed striking. Ultimately, Abaddon beauty ideals revolve around the unspoken vow that strength, resilience, and a hint of otherworldly power are the most compelling hallmarks of all.
Gender Ideals
Abaddons regard gender with an almost clinical detachment, rarely binding individuals to traditional male-female expectations. Every child, regardless of bodily attributes, undergoes the same grueling training from an early age, leading to a culture where one’s combat prowess and willingness to kill overshadow any notions of gender-based roles. While certain enclaves might colloquially identify “male” or “female” traits—such as the presence of horns in some lineages or forked tails in others—these distinctions hold little bearing on social standing or career paths. What truly matters is whether an individual can hold their own, uphold the enclave’s code, and stride into conflict as necessary. Even the act of becoming a brood “Prime” is less about gender and more about a biological metamorphosis linked to communal need, determined by a hormonal shift that anyone of sufficient fortitude and lineage can undergo.
Because there are no sharply defined “gender norms,” expressions of identity remain flexible. Some Abaddons fully embrace any physical markers they bear—ranging from horns to additional tails—and incorporate these into their personal aesthetic. Others experiment with illusions or ritual scarring that downplay or accentuate certain traits. In the eyes of most enclaves, these choices are mere reflections of individual preference, not a gateway to judgment. Elders and clan leaders only scrutinize a person’s battle record, loyalty, and capacity to handle the dangers of the Abyss. As a result, while outsiders might find Abaddon society disconcertingly fluid on matters of gender, the Abaddons themselves see it as yet another dimension of adaptability in a world where survival transcends all else.
Courtship Ideals
In Abaddon enclaves, courtship rarely follows the gentler customs found in surface realms. Instead, romantic interest often arises from displays of skill or survival. That means when an Abaddon singles out a potential partner, the first step is often to prove they can endure or handle the other’s might. Physical challenges, hunts, or even mock duels become preludes to deeper bonds. Onlookers may see these rituals as brutal, yet they reflect a shared respect for each other’s ability to face lethal threats. In a land where death is a near-constant companion, courtship becomes less about sweet gestures and more about forging unspoken pacts of loyalty.
Once two Abaddons develop a mutual interest, they typically exchange tokens that signify personal achievements. These might be fragments of a slain beast, etched pitstone pieces, or the chipped remains of a defeated foe’s weapon. By offering such trophies, each partner acknowledges the other’s past triumphs and pledges to continue that legacy together. Sometimes they further seal this connection by undertaking a joint task, such as clearing out an undead lair or scouting an uncharted tunnel. Succeeding in this shared endeavor cements trust, for it proves they can fight as a coordinated unit. Failures might spur them to train harder or, in harsher enclaves, end the budding relationship before it solidifies.
Emotional intimacy, while understated, develops through recognizing how each partner deals with the daily violence of the Abyss. If one can witness the other’s stoic acceptance of a close ally’s death or their unwavering calm when facing an ambush, a new level of closeness emerges. For many Abaddons, witnessing raw ferocity tempered by self-control stands as the greatest aphrodisiac. Even if words of endearment are minimal, the knowledge that someone has your back in a plane teeming with devils and horrors fosters a unique form of devotion. In enclaves where the Fade’s training is especially rigid, couples might slip away for private moments of reflection, silently affirming each other’s presence. Every step of this bond keeps violence in the backdrop, acknowledging that deep affection can thrive alongside an unblinking acceptance of death.
If the courtship advances to a formal union, some enclaves hold subdued gatherings to recognize the pair’s commitment, though these never overshadow the possibility of conflict. Instead of floral offerings or dance, the “ceremony” might involve sparring demonstrations or blessings by Grim Knights who speak ominous yet heartfelt vows to Crow. In this grim melding of tradition and lethal readiness, the newly joined couple remains vigilant even at their own celebration. Outsiders may judge such events as disturbingly callous, but to Abaddons, it is simply another extension of the life they embrace. Underneath it all, there is tenderness, albeit filtered through the lens of the Abyss, where no one questions whether their union is powerful enough—only whether they can survive together. That, to an Abaddon, is true love: standing shoulder to shoulder, blade in hand, against the encroaching dark, bound more by raw devotion than by any gentle vow.
Relationship Ideals
In Abaddon enclaves, an ideal relationship rests on unshakable loyalty that endures the Abyss’s relentless hazards. Partners are expected to stand as each other’s bulwark, ready to draw steel at the faintest hint of danger. This protective stance doesn’t come from gentle sentiment but from mutual recognition of shared battles and goals. Public displays of affection remain scarce, with most pairs content to maintain a calm, stoic front. Nevertheless, the significance of a partner’s unwavering presence is deeply felt, even if rarely voiced aloud. A whispered vow or an exchange of tokens in private can mark the heart of their bond more profoundly than grand gestures.
Abaddons place immense value on respecting a partner’s autonomy and skill without condescending guidance or control. If one half of the pair wishes to explore a new frontier or confront a looming threat, the other is expected to either join or step aside without hindrance. This acceptance fosters a union where both individuals can grow in might or cunning, unburdened by petty possessiveness. However, should a partner repeatedly fail to hold their own in battle, or if their personal ambitions jeopardize survival, friction arises swiftly. Abaddons avoid stifling each other’s potential, believing that stunted growth can lead to lethal vulnerability. To them, a relationship thrives on shared progress and unspoken respect, forging a bond that transcends outward niceties.
Even in stable relationships, every Abaddon knows betrayal can lurk behind calm eyes, prompting them to trust only after countless trials. Partners often test each other’s mettle through joint missions, hunts, or cunning infiltration tasks that demand complete unity. Succeeding in these proves an unbreakable synergy, while failure exposes weak links that might threaten the entire enclave. If treachery arises, the penalty is immediate, and no sentimental plea can reverse a blade already poised for retribution. Yet for those who prove faithful, relationships forge an ironclad sense of belonging, a fortress of security in a realm that seldom offers comfort. Such trust is so precious that once shattered, it rarely mends, for Abaddons prefer ending a broken bond swiftly rather than risking further harm.
In many enclaves, a pair or a small circle might occasionally develop a deeper devotion to Crow, weaving religious rituals into their partnership. They could pray together before heading into especially perilous battles, seeking an added hint of divine favor or acceptance. Some even carve matching insignias of Crow’s sigil into their armor, an emblem that unites them under one doom-laden cause. By embracing such solemn rites, they affirm that their union mirrors the unstoppable cycle of life and death that shapes Abaddon existence. This blend of spiritual closeness and unwavering vigilance cements a relationship that thrives both in violent chaos and the quiet moments between conflicts. Thus, Abaddons view successful partners as more than affectionate companions—like everything else in the Abyss, they must be worthy, lethal allies who can face oblivion with eyes unafraid.
Major organizations
The Fade
The Fade is often described as the formative bedrock of Abaddon society. Originally established by an ancient circle of austere mentors, it exists to sculpt the minds and bodies of the youngest Abaddons for survival in the Abyss. From as early as age seven, youths enter harsh conditioning designed to extinguish emotional vulnerabilities and foster absolute discipline. Elders within the Fade claim their methods, though brutal, are essential to preserve the Abaddon’s resilience in a realm where brutality is common currency. Children who endure this training receive not just physical prowess but also a stoic detachment that helps them face down the deadliest Abyssal threats. Despite the severity of its curriculum, the Fade occupies a revered place among Abaddons. Families consider it an honor—and a necessary sacrifice—to place their offspring in such an unforgiving environment, confident that lessons learned there will secure their children’s futures. Outsiders see The Fade’s practices as utterly callous, but Abaddons point out that nothing in the Abyss shows mercy. It is the Fade’s duty, they argue, to ensure that neither will the next generation.Six Daggers Academy
For those who excel under The Fade’s grueling tutelage, Six Daggers Academy represents the next great step in an Abaddon’s development. Built in an imposing stretch of the Abyss, the Academy houses sprawling halls dedicated to martial disciplines, arcane research, and the refined arts of infiltration. Students are divided into large “packs,” forging alliances and rivalries over a year of punishing trials. Only the top ten from each pack receive the coveted appointment to advanced roles—often the Grim Knight mantle—though all graduates leave as formidable warriors and strategists. At its heart, Six Daggers stands as a symbol of Abaddon unity. The myriad Abyssal enclaves send their brightest minds and strongest bodies here, training them in a curriculum that balances raw might with underhanded cunning. Tutors instill an unapologetic worldview: the Abyss is dangerous, so one must be smarter, stronger, and swifter than any foe. Each generation that emerges from Six Daggers preserves the power and prestige of Abaddon tradition, carrying it back to their enclaves or outward into wider Tilith.The Ebony Conclave
The Ebony Conclave acts like a council of elders, strategists, and influential leaders from every corner of Abaddon society. Whenever a decision surpasses the scope of a single clan—be it forging alliances, declaring conflicts, or stabilizing trade with surface civilizations—members of the Conclave gather to debate and decree. Their sessions occur deep underground in obsidian-floored chambers, a setting that amplifies their sober presence. Each seat on the Conclave represents a powerful lineage or faction; gaining membership is an achievement of both political savvy and raw strength. Known for its sharp focus on the welfare of the Abaddon race, the Conclave endorses relentless readiness for war. They believe that to thrive in the Abyss, one must perpetually guard against betrayal and external invasion. Critics claim the Conclave’s paranoia limits their society’s growth. Yet few can deny the results: over countless generations, the Ebony Conclave’s stringent policies have kept Abaddon enclaves strong and independent, forging a sense of shared identity no matter how fractious day-to-day clan politics become.Cult of the First Crow
Though not an official governing body, the Cult of the First Crow wields enormous spiritual clout across Abaddon enclaves. Devout followers trace their lineage to the earliest Abaddons shaped by Crow’s own hand, believing that only by replicating the ancient ways can their people remain favored by the deity of Death. Under vaulted catacomb ceilings, members chant archaic hymns and enact rites meant to deepen their connection to Crow’s domain, sometimes bordering on the extreme. In so doing, they claim to sense the heartbeat of the Abyss itself, channeling dread energies that other faiths dare not touch. Admittance into the Cult requires unwavering reverence and often a personal “death rite” that strips away a candidate’s lingering fears about mortality. Once initiated, members dedicate themselves fully to preserving Abaddon customs and purging any forces that might corrupt Crow’s vision. This fervor has led to both admiration—some see the Cult as keepers of Abaddon’s religious heritage—and trepidation, as their ranks sometimes harbor zealots who’ll stop at nothing to rid the world of “unnatural” life. Even so, in times of crisis, many Abaddons turn to the Cult’s cryptic ceremonies, hoping their whispered invocations will earn Crow’s direct protection.
Parent ethnicities
Related Locations
Comments