Soul Blade

There is a common saying among smith's that they "put their heart and soul" into their work.  But, there is a not so common practice that the saying originated from.  Soul Forging is a nearly-forgotten technique in which, rather than iron or steel, use their very soul as the material of the blade.  A Soul-Blade requires a total understanding of smithing, and the soul itself, and as a result, it is very rare that any smith capable of preforming the act would do it on anyone but themselves, because one small mistake can be quite fatal.  A Soul Blade is unique among weapons, taking an appearance that is a reflection of the owner of the soul, a blade stronger than a mountain, lighter than a whisper, and sharper than a the reapers scythe, with magical properties that reflect the nature of their owner.

But, such a sword comes at a cost.  Because the soul is pulled from the body the body is but a husk.  The soul can not experience life properly and becomes almost incapable of growing or learning or changing, and should the blade break, it spells death for the owner.  A true death, from a broken soul.  Nothing short of a wish can bring them back.  Should the body die, it is also a death but a lesser one.  Someone else can wield the weapon, with reduced effectiveness, but the blade will clearly lose its magic and it's edge.

If you see someone with a soul blade, be wary, as they are likely a singularly driven individual who will stop at nothing to achieve their goal.

1:  this is a Soul Blade that was forged by Alkein, an orkish pirate lord, who sailed the southern seas.  They say he kidnapped the smith who forged his soul and was able to weather every wrong strike on the smith's anvil.  Unlike most blades, the edge follows the inside of the curve, not the outside.  This blade favors cruel chopping over graceful swordplay.  They say the blade would chew through armor and metal as though it were assaulted by the salty humidity of the ocean.

2: this is the sword of Serenola, the Silver Hand of Akoji.  A Swords woman without peer, she tempered her skill as well as her soul.  Every blade she wielded was never perfect enough for her fighting style.  Forging her soul was the one answer.  This blade glides through the air like an owl, quiet and deadly, with intent and speed.  No frontal assault could ever pierce it's defenses.  It wasn't a frontal assault that felled Serenola

3. It isn't known who's Soul forged the blade they call Malice.  The sickly green glow is enough to make anyone who touches it violently and possibly even deathly ill, even the wielder.  Some say it was a plague wererat.  Some say it was a green dragon.  Whoever it was, nobody wields malice for long, and lives to tell the tale.  

4. A holy blade if ever there was one.  Forged from the soul of a paladin, by the hammer of a close friend, Darumel the Gold faced down the gates of hell, and he knew that he had no choice.  With his blade, glitter-steel, he charged into battle, his radiance shining brighter than ever, with a noble goal and an honest effort.  Nobody knows what happened at the Hellgate.  All we do know is that it was closed, with only one casualty, glitter-steel stabbed into a bleeding obsidian, with the shadows of too many fallen infernal to count.

5. A powerful, but heavy blade, it is known simply as Regret.  Tough decisions are often required to be made and this blade makes those regrets manifest.  The blade weighs as much as your regret weighs on you.  But, if you can push past this blade, it will defend you and those around you with blistering speed.  But, it is a fickle weapon, and you must always keep your resolve.

6. The blade of Boal is the blade of a coward.  The blade is designed to keep people at a distance, fending them off with its length and cruel appearance.  Truthfully, it takes a brave man, willing to grip it at its sharp center, to actually utilize a weapon.  No man is more dangerous than a coward who refuses to run.

7. This is an unusual entry, as it is more of a cursed weapon.  It is the demon Qbtlrt, sealed away in this blade.  To wield it is to beg to be corrupted.  But to overcome the demon is to be feared.

Bones of Reality

Something important to remember is that everything is, or was alive.  In one way or another, everything is alive, even the universe.  But, like everything alive, it can be harmed.  Here, we see something that can, and will, only spell eventual catastrophe, as it is a Bone of Reality.  Now, it's relatively small, roughly the size of an elephant, but even this small bone means something major to the world around it.  This bone represents a core structural foundation of this plane of existence.

Now, WHICH structure, its hard to say.  It's small, so it is something that is probably minor, or easily taken for granted.  The structural bone of Gravity, for example, would span an entire ocean.  This...  For all I know, it might be the musical note 'B flat' or it could be the scent of ammonia.  Small things, but things that could mean something much greater.

Hm?  Oh, right.  The bone itself can be utilized for great and powerful achemical and magical purposes.  If you use the structure of reality to power your activity, reality itself is at your mercy.  The effects can be permanent, but, so is the loss, because as of now, we have the potential of returning the bone back into the heavens where it belongs, but if it is damaged, or gone... we will forever lose a piece of what we know.

Neon elemental

You know, it's a funny thing.  When someone talks about an 'elemental' they talk about concepts.  Water, fire, earth, and wind.  Water and earth are combinations of elements, fire is a state of matter, plasma, and wind is just... gaseous elements that are moving.  They aren't ACTUALLY elements.

But, there ARE entities out there, made out of a single element.  Now, many of them may be mistaken for wind, water, or earth elementals, given their basic nature, but, in my research, there has shown to be a serious difference between a 'wind' elemental, and a 'Flourine' elemental, or a significant difference between an earth elemental, and a Calcium elemental.

In my research, this entity is what I can best describe as a Neon Elemental.  Gaseous in nature, but MUCH more dangerous under the right circumstances.  Usually, they are passive, invisible entities, with no color, taste, or odor.  But, if it was agitated properly, such as being struck with a powerful electricity spell, then it can grow quite... violent.  It lashes out with speed and cunning, burning and electrocuting its foes with vibrant colors of gas.  Its rampage lasts until the charge stored within it vanishes... unfortunately, that depends on how powerful the electricity was.  My advice on the Neon Elemental?  Be wary with spells you cast.  You might find yourself fighting an extra foe much stronger than intended.  later, I will discuss the dangers of Hydrogen elementals...

Gultin

Gultin is an old man.  A kind man.  A man of humble regret.  He wanders from town to town, offering his services to aid or assist the townsfolk.  Usually it's small things, like helping with errands.  However, he's also the first person to draw his blade to protect someone in need.  If you ever find yourself in need of his assistance, all you need to do is leave out a glass of milk with some cinnamon in it, and kindly call out for the assistance of a kind soul.

Gultin is said to be a fictional character, as stories of him go back for centuries, and while a glass of milk and cinnamon is more a call for good luck, every once in a while, someone will find their tasks completed, with nobody claiming responsibility for the kind task.  A bar patron will be saved from a bar brawl by an elderly man with more pep in his step than expected.  And any time the goblins roll from their caves, riding their wargs, the local militia have one more man than they expect.

The truth is, Gultin is a real man.  His was a curiously generous individual who sought to get more power...  but only for the sake of aiding others.  His inherently kind nature lead him to once assisting a fae from imprisonment, and upon being returned to her home, he was given one wish.  While he knew that fae magic was fickle and dangerous, he accepted her generosity. Simply stating that his only wish was to "always be able to help those who asked." 

His wish was granted, as he became... less than mortal.  Age no longer stalked him, and he would be able to travel long distances towards those who called for his aid.  While he would be lying if he said he did not wish for death to claim him, to be with his family in the afterlife, he could not bear the thought that his selfish desire for death would result in harm coming to an innocent family because he couldn't come to their aid. 

A Meeting.

Quiet.  Hush.  Silence.  The deafening of nothing.  The chaos of stillness.  That is the world you see.  That is the being you see.  You don't see.  You don't know.  You know intimately.  That you aren't.  That you could be.  It simply is, as much as you simply are.  Suddenly, it notices you, the same way you notice an ant at a picnic.  Curiosity, you would guess, is the expression.  Intrigue in your existence.  It makes a gesture to you, one of a thousand movements and none at the same time.  With no way to be described except with every word you know.

You take a step forward.

Cursed Undead

A cursed undead, soul bound to his corpse even after he's dead.  For a while they might even know they're dead for years, but the symptoms become obvious.  A lack of hunger, inability to sleep...  but they're dead that can not pass on.  Slowly rotting from the outside, trapped inside, able to feel it.  They eventually go mad.  While not all turn to necromancy in attempt to find a solution, many do.  Being dead makes them naturally attuned to necromancy.  They should not be underestimated.  Your best bet, should you encounter one of these creatures, is to disassemble it, and not allow it to crawl back together... until a cure can eventually be found

Moon Dwarf Castle

Moon Dwarves.  Its a very odd thing to think about, but they're a very rare breed of dwarf that has almost no kinship with the earth.  Some claim they have elvish blood, some say they're just mad.  Truth is, not even they know.  They're fairly... esoteric.  They keep to themselves, but happily do business.  They do construction, like dwarves, but it's more fashion than function.

The Moon Dwarves have a royalty, and this is their home.  The Castle of Winding holds the King and Queen of the Moon Dwarves, and is also one of the most glorious pieces of construction they have built.  As part of tradition, when every new generation of Royalty that takes seat, the local moon dwarves gather around to construct an addition to the winding tower in honor of the previous generation.  Particularly benevolent royalty, or long lasting and prosperous ones have taller, more elegant towers, while poorer or cruel generations have shorter or less interesting ones.

Gargimae

You know the weird thing about corpses?  They do shit afterwards.  Like, I'm not talking about Vampires, zombies, or things like that.  I mean, like, there is a PROCESS these things go through.  When a creature dies, they decompose and shit like that.  It's really nasty.

But, ya know, there are some creatures with really weird biology, like these Gargimae.  They have natural helium bladders in their bodies that allow them to float.  Kinda like space whales, they eat the tiny bugs and stuff, but they're big.  When they die, and not because they got shot, their helium bladders will swell up to near popping point... near, but not complete.  Usually this means they'll float up into the atmosphere until air differential DOES make them pop, or something attacks them.  But if you can weigh them down properly, they make good use as organic balloons.

Mamea

Souls are a curious thing.  We think of them as abstract concepts and senses of self, the thing that are 'us' at the same time, and that they're what goes to the afterlife when our bodies die.  But odd people have odd souls, and sometimes, they're more interested in hanging around.

These are Mamea, and they are not to be confused with mere ghosts and spectres.  Ghosts and things of that nature are oftentimes bound my memories or desires.  Feelings.  They are the ESSENCE of a person, that utilizes a soul for power, holding it hostage to do the bidding of the essence of the dead person.

Mamea aren't bound in any way though.  They're merely souls that have chosen to remain in this world.  Well, 'chosen' might not be the right word, as they usually must escape Reapers and other things.  That is why they are so rare.  The temperament of a Mamea is difficult to just 'say' as they're as diverse as people.  because they ARE people.  Some of them are helpful, influencing probability to let things go someone's way.  But some are hostile, and their most common method of attack is possession.  But, this isn't normal possession because it isn't a demon, or a ghost.  Being an ACTUAL soul makes it extremely difficult to even detect that this was actually a possession, even to the one being possessed, and its even harder to eject, due to the risk of forcing the owner's soul with it. 

Mamea aren't usually visible to the naked eye.  It takes a special kind of person to see them, and what it takes to be that kind of person is unknown.  Some say they are blessed by an ancient god to see people's souls, not just the masks they wear.  Some say that people who can see Mamea are destined to become reapers in the afterlife.  While there are methods for making them visible, one should always be cautious because you never truly know what they may do.

Grim Reaper

Do you know what the least appreciated, most despised job in the multiverse is?  No, it's not door-to-door cable salesman.  It's not call center worker either.  It's the Grim Reaper.

There are a lot of assumptions about death, being an uncaring, unfeeling monster who wants to ruin lives.  Truth is, he is just another person, bound to his job.  The most frustrating part for them is when he does his best to help.  To end the pain and suffering of someone, only to be rebuked and despised.

Reapers are also assumed to just be skeletal humanoids, but that's a frustrating misconception as well.  There are many kinds of reapers out there, and this is but one for the Avoni people.  This reaper is a light in the darkness, and a leader of the lost, to take poor souls and lead them to a land of peace and happiness.

When you die, please do not flee your reaper.  He is just doing his job, and usually just wants to help.

Verunt

What is pain?  Is it a broken arm, or a broken heart?    is it just a chemical reaction in the brain?  Those would be comforting answers, because they would be concrete.  They would be simple.  But pain is not simple.  Pain is complex, and magical. 

This is a creature known as a Verunt.  It can be found in the astral plane, in areas where great amounts of pain took place.  Usually, things like battlefields or destroyed cities.  All they known is pain and torment, it is who they are, what they are.  Seeing someone else not in pain is even more painful, because it is all they know.  Pain.  And Hatred.  It is said that their touch is like the burning of a hundred suns, their bite more painful than a limb being twisted off, and their scream enough to pierce the eardrums

The good news is that, due to being found on the Astral plane, they rarely encounter those who would know what it was like to feel pleasure.  The bad news is horrible people who like to change the good news.

Safety Lesson

Look, you want to skip the boring lessons about wards and protective magic, and you want to ignore magical theory in favor of "just winging it?"  Fine.  Go ahead.  Meet Aren and Lonix.  They had the same ideas as you.  They wanted to teleport home to be with their families for the holidays, and instead of learning the spell properly, they just "winged it."  Their bodies didn't all teleport the same way at the same time and this is all that's left. What's worse, their soul was separated, leaving them fairly similarly to liches.  In constant pain and unable to die.

Malsomnia, Lady of Nightmares

Behold Malsomnia, Lady of Nightmares.  A cruel mistress with a sadistic streak, though one who is not inherantly evil.  Dreams and Nightmares both serve to better mortals by giving them ways to battle with abstract concepts and things of that nature.  Life is not pleasant and neither is the method for the lessons she teaches.

The Dreamscape is a demiplane that all sentient creatures are capable of entering during their slumber.  And their consciousness helps to shape its lands.  It is not bound to typical rules and laws, at least, not all the time.  But it is ruled by the two sisters, Malsomnia, Lady of Nightmares, and Iucundia, Lady of Dreams.  The two fight, bicker, and contradict each other left and right, but love each other just the same.  They work together, helping to bring balance to the chaotic realm that is their home.

But if you see her, you know there is a serious problem.  As of right now, Iucundia is missing, and without her, the dreamscape is out of balance, and Malsomnia's very presence is corrupting it, forcing her to leave her home for this soft, boring, rule-obeying Prime Material Plane

She has a task for you, and that is to find her sister, and return her to Malsomnia's side, so that balance can be restored to the dreamscape, and so she can go home.

The Ivory Prison

The less is known of something, the more information seems to spread.  The tower here is known by sailors as "The Ivory Prison."  Nobody has found a way in, or at least, nobody has made it back alive, or dead, with information on it.  Some say it's the tomb of a god, and trespassing on such sacred ground is damnation in the highest order.  Others say it's the laboratory of a powerful wizard, but then again, what mysterious, unapproachable tower isn't?  However, the most widely accepted theory is that it is the prison of an elder god, and the tower is only thing stopping it from unleashing devastation onto the world

Needless to say, you were very concerned when you awoke to discover a letter in your home, inviting you to the ivory tower, personally.

The Love of the Craft

People always associate Gods of crafting with blacksmiths, hunched over a forge.  While, yes, this is a crafter, Gods of crafting also enjoy delicate work, and will appreciate an intricate stitching on the dress a humble woman makes for her daughters wedding day, just as much as they would appreciate a deathly sharp blade to kill a monster.  This is a sewing kit a God gave to an honest man, who never prayed for skill, for customers, or wealth.  All he ever prayed for was inspiration.  Appreciating someone who wished to work off of his own merits, the God of crafting gave this to him so that he will always be able to see his vision through.

Labredous

People always assume Gods to be ancient beings with immeasurable intelligence and wisdom.  What people don't realize is that gods age, which means that at some point, they were children, and gods are not immune to being idiot children.  Meet the "Labredous" a young god's attempt to make the greatest dog ever.  The worst part is that it is not in any pain, and instead, wants to be your friend.



Alright, this one was a lot sillier than most of the lore bits that I do, but it was funny, and I felt like posting it here because of the ideas that can come from the actions of a young god.

Vigilo Sententia. Awake thoughts.

"The mind is a terrible thing to waste."  The mantra of parent, teacher, and wizard alike, who see education as the future of the world.  But lets focus a bit on the wizards here, as their view of intelligence is often extremely selfish.  They hoard knowledge for themselves, secreting it away from friend, enemy, and colleague alike.  This is their biggest mistake.

They think that the knowledge is 'theirs.'  This couldn't be further from the truth.  Experiences might belong to the being who experienced it, but knowledge belongs to the plane of existence itself.  Knowledge IS existence.  And that knowledge is, as a result, alive.  Usually this isn't an issue.  Knowledge is helpful.  Knowledge is Benevolent.  It tends to want to help people.  That's why it allows itself to be captured and contained inside lumps of meat inside bone inside flesh.

But not all knowledge is equal, and this is why we're talking about Wizards.  Wizards crave the unknown and crave the eldritch.  They crave to know things that aren't supposed to be known, knowledge that neither wants to be found, nor contained, and when it finds itself trapped... it rebels.  This creature you see here is the result of one of those rebellions, of knowledge in a mind that forces itself out, and punishes its jailer like any prisoner might.  It uses the selfish nature of the wizard to turn the feelings of the usually benevolent knowledge's against its jailers too.  This is a creature made up of the knowledge's that have taken over and killed its jailer, and taken a life of its own, ruled by the hatred of captivity over the freedom of being a concept.

Creatures like this are called Vigilo Sententia.  Awake thoughts.  Each one is different, depending on the knowledge's that rebelled against their captors.  They are hostile, seeking to liberate trapped knowledge's from every slaver that contains them... And they are also extremely intelligent, being made of knowledge's itself.  If you see one, be very careful.  You're not likely to outwit them.

Walking Homes

So, this all started in a D&D/Tabletop chat, when someone posted an image and I was just overcome with inspiration, and so I just... vomited out an entire backstory to an image.  After that, I would occasionally just be given cool images and I would give them a similar treatments.

This is actually among one of the first that I made that really got people wanting me to give lore to other things.

"Home is where the heart is" is a common saying among housewives and husbands at war.  Its a saying that is meant to say that their home can be anywhere.  But sometimes it can take on a more literal meaning.  Emotions and feelings are a special kind of magic that few can tap into, with love and hate being some of the strongest emotions there are.  Sometimes that magic seeps into the wood and foundation of homes, clinging to the framework.  Sometimes, it can even take on a life of its own, bred from those emotions.

And sometimes those houses feel betrayed.  When a loving family uses it for generations, and then discards it, all those emotions can brew and fester into these abominations, who seek out the ones that left them, to make them feel the pain that they were forced to endure.

These Walking Homes are to be considered in the same category as possessions and poltergeists, but with one important difference:  These are created souls, not born ones.  They can't be reasoned with the same way.  If you see one... good luck.

THE GROUND RULES

Okay, so, I have a bit of a hobby for just creating stories for images.  Sometimes they're nice.  Sometimes they're very much NOT nice.  But, it's a story to get someone inspired.

One thing I make sure to do whenever I write out a lore is that I try to never apply stats to the thing getting lore.  Numbers are simply that, and if you get too hung up on them, then you are not really getting the point.  Plus, if something has good enough lore, it can be applied to MANY different settings, that you may or may not have come up with yourself.

Now, I primarily will have the lore applied to these images be in fictional medieval time periods, usually for a D&D, or other tabletop, style of game.  Now, you can take this and run.  Or take half of it and fill the rest in with your own sweet batch of creativity.  It doesn't really bother me either way.

Finally, I try not to be encyclopedic when I write lore for images.  I write them as though they are being told to you by someone else.  Maybe I'll write lore for the guy who is telling you guys lore.  I dunno.  But it doesn't matter.  I just want to give you guys some context, and also let y'all know that, just because it is said, doesn't mean it is true.  It might be completely true.  It might be half true.  there might only be about 3 grains of truth on an entire 72 oz steak of false.  Who knows.  Hurray for unreliable Narrators.

Anyways.  Yeah, these are the general rules that I go with when I make lore.

It's whatever comes up in my head at the time.  It's usually done from the perspective of someone telling the reader what they know.  And it's typically medieval fantasy in nature.

Good?  Good.  Okay.  Lets see how this goes!