OUT OF CHARACTER INFORMATION
Name: Cursed Flesh
Type: Armour
Credits: N/A
Consolidation Thread: N/A
Description: The Cursed Flesh is no mere relic it is a parasitic mass of cursed vampire flesh, grown from the remains of an elder vampire pureblood whose essence refused to pass into death. Forged through necrotic sorcery and dark alchemy, this unholy organ is not worn, but implanted, worming its way into the host’s body, threading itself through marrow and sinew like a malignant root system. It transforms the host’s corpse into a walking nest of tendrils, muscle cords, and pulsating veins, all alive with vile intent. The flesh itself is unnatural: cold, boneless, and wet with ever-churning blood. From beneath skin and bone, ropes of vampiric tissue may burst forth at the bearer’s command, acting as shields, whips, or claws. These writhing growths do not bleed when severed, for they are not truly alive, and even when torn, they regrow rapidly unless struck by flame or holy power. This armor is not a shell, but a living infestation it does not protect by plating the body, but by becoming it, replacing lost limbs with tendrils of living meat and shielding the host in a storm of cursed muscle. Every inch of it moves with purpose, guided by ancient instincts buried in the vampire's flesh and lashed to the will of its bearer. Feared by knights and priests alike and utterly damning to those who bear it. To accept its power is to surrender to the will of the dead to be clothed not in steel or leather, but in the cursed, writhing legacy of undeath itself.
ATTRIBUTES
STRENGTHS
+ Not the body of the host, but the moving army of worms living inside him have incredible regenerative power; a lost arm can be temporarily replaced by fledgling tentacles, or entirely new arms re-attached onto the body.
+ A barrage of tissue that can be shaped and guided to adhere to its host's wishes and commands.
WEAKNESSES
- To carry so much additional mass inside oneself is a hefty burden that significantly slows down the host.
- Vampire organics will quickly deteriorate and can not regenerate when exposed to high temperatures like those of a flame.
HISTORICAL INFORMATION
The Cursed Flesh was never meant for the world. It was the masterwork of Dagon Erh, a dark mage whose hands had shaped horrors from blood and bone for over a century. In his exile, deep within the lost woods, Dagon toiled alone, feeding stolen vampire flesh with cursed blood, soulfire, and raw necrotic essence. His goal was singular and vain: to create a perfect second body, an armour of living, ever-regrowing tissue bound to his immortal will, a defence even death itself could not penetrate.
He almost succeeded.
What he birthed was not a suit, but a living parasite: the Cursed Flesh. Grown from the remains of a pureblood vampire and infused with Dagon’s own vitae, it pulsed like a womb of tendrils and rot, ready to graft itself into his body. And yet, at the threshold of wearing it, Dagon hesitated. He feared not pain or corruption, but limitation.
The flesh would obey, yes, but Dagon saw in its hunger the need for a warrior's rhythm, not a scholar’s restraint. It craved violence. It thirsted for carnage. That one was Hazak, a fallen Eshkin warlord whose corpse lay broken and forgotten, buried beneath the ash-ruins of Dwarven fools.
Determined to reshape Hazak into a weapon of Maw, Dagon enacted a blasphemous resurrection ritual in the bowels of the Maw's sanctum. Within that dark rite amidst bone ash, sacrifice, and stolen blood, he implanted the Cursed Flesh directly into Hazak’s chest cavity, binding its tendrils to the warlord’s dead nerves and anchoring the cursed flesh to soul-wrought sigils carved inside the ribcage. The moment the Heart pulsed, Hazak's body surged with grotesque life. Bone cracked. Rotting muscle twisted and reformed. Fangs sharpened. Tendrils erupted like worms from a corpse, writhing across stone. The resurrection was complete but the thing that rose was no longer merely Hazak. It was a symbiosis of flesh and hate a vessel of Dagon's dark ambition and ancient craft.
Name: Cursed Flesh
Type: Armour
Credits: N/A
Consolidation Thread: N/A
Description: The Cursed Flesh is no mere relic it is a parasitic mass of cursed vampire flesh, grown from the remains of an elder vampire pureblood whose essence refused to pass into death. Forged through necrotic sorcery and dark alchemy, this unholy organ is not worn, but implanted, worming its way into the host’s body, threading itself through marrow and sinew like a malignant root system. It transforms the host’s corpse into a walking nest of tendrils, muscle cords, and pulsating veins, all alive with vile intent. The flesh itself is unnatural: cold, boneless, and wet with ever-churning blood. From beneath skin and bone, ropes of vampiric tissue may burst forth at the bearer’s command, acting as shields, whips, or claws. These writhing growths do not bleed when severed, for they are not truly alive, and even when torn, they regrow rapidly unless struck by flame or holy power. This armor is not a shell, but a living infestation it does not protect by plating the body, but by becoming it, replacing lost limbs with tendrils of living meat and shielding the host in a storm of cursed muscle. Every inch of it moves with purpose, guided by ancient instincts buried in the vampire's flesh and lashed to the will of its bearer. Feared by knights and priests alike and utterly damning to those who bear it. To accept its power is to surrender to the will of the dead to be clothed not in steel or leather, but in the cursed, writhing legacy of undeath itself.
ATTRIBUTES
- Creator: Dagon Erh
- Durability: Extreme
- Weight: 100kg
- Dimensions: Length: 6 cm / Width: 4cm (This compact core; the tendrils can extend outward 1.5–2 meters from the body. Inside, it fills and threads through the host’s torso and limbs)
- Rarity: Unique
- Materials: The Flesh of Pureblood Vampires
- Manufacturing: The Cursed Flesh was not crafted it was grown. Deep beneath the blood-soaked catacombs of Terra, Dagon Erh harvested the still-living flesh of an ancient vampire lord, binding it in iron coffins etched with necrotic runes. Through years of dark ritual, the flesh was fed cursed blood, stitched with soul-thread, and saturated with shadowfire to awaken its hunger.
STRENGTHS
+ Not the body of the host, but the moving army of worms living inside him have incredible regenerative power; a lost arm can be temporarily replaced by fledgling tentacles, or entirely new arms re-attached onto the body.
+ A barrage of tissue that can be shaped and guided to adhere to its host's wishes and commands.
WEAKNESSES
- To carry so much additional mass inside oneself is a hefty burden that significantly slows down the host.
- Vampire organics will quickly deteriorate and can not regenerate when exposed to high temperatures like those of a flame.
HISTORICAL INFORMATION
The Cursed Flesh was never meant for the world. It was the masterwork of Dagon Erh, a dark mage whose hands had shaped horrors from blood and bone for over a century. In his exile, deep within the lost woods, Dagon toiled alone, feeding stolen vampire flesh with cursed blood, soulfire, and raw necrotic essence. His goal was singular and vain: to create a perfect second body, an armour of living, ever-regrowing tissue bound to his immortal will, a defence even death itself could not penetrate.
He almost succeeded.
What he birthed was not a suit, but a living parasite: the Cursed Flesh. Grown from the remains of a pureblood vampire and infused with Dagon’s own vitae, it pulsed like a womb of tendrils and rot, ready to graft itself into his body. And yet, at the threshold of wearing it, Dagon hesitated. He feared not pain or corruption, but limitation.
The flesh would obey, yes, but Dagon saw in its hunger the need for a warrior's rhythm, not a scholar’s restraint. It craved violence. It thirsted for carnage. That one was Hazak, a fallen Eshkin warlord whose corpse lay broken and forgotten, buried beneath the ash-ruins of Dwarven fools.
Determined to reshape Hazak into a weapon of Maw, Dagon enacted a blasphemous resurrection ritual in the bowels of the Maw's sanctum. Within that dark rite amidst bone ash, sacrifice, and stolen blood, he implanted the Cursed Flesh directly into Hazak’s chest cavity, binding its tendrils to the warlord’s dead nerves and anchoring the cursed flesh to soul-wrought sigils carved inside the ribcage. The moment the Heart pulsed, Hazak's body surged with grotesque life. Bone cracked. Rotting muscle twisted and reformed. Fangs sharpened. Tendrils erupted like worms from a corpse, writhing across stone. The resurrection was complete but the thing that rose was no longer merely Hazak. It was a symbiosis of flesh and hate a vessel of Dagon's dark ambition and ancient craft.
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