Lunarius

**!! IMPORTANT !!**

**This article is a detailed story of events which are not thoroughly understood. The information below consists of uncommon knowledge.**

### Race

Elf (Former), Vampire (Former), Soulforged

## Background

### Profession

Diviner, Politician (Former), Cult Leader (Former), Priest (Former)

### Residence

Riverbreak (Former), The High Academy of Iltharia

## Life Story

Long ago, the elves in this world were immortal. Lunarius is the first of his family not to be -- he has been afflicted with Chaos Magic since investigating the portal through which the Beholder left Hahm and Ingya's realm and entered his.  He discovered his mortality while divining when he had a vision in which he was visibly older, and he discovered the cause after months of research.  While he was not aging quickly by any means, he knew he had to start looking for answers immediately.  As is all too often the tale, this lead him to study necromancy. But, rather than turn to the god of undeath, he began to twist the teachings of his own god, Anaeron.

Lunarius' tale begins much like that of the rest of his family -- he was trained by his mother, Laneria, to help with the closing of the portal that would open every few hundred years. Despite her attempts to instill in him a sense of duty, he fought these agents of chaos more out of fear than anything.

After spending a few lifetimes as a diviner at the temple, Lunarius moved on to politics, establishing Riverbreak as a full-fledged city by turning into a trade hub.  He has been one of its leaders ever since.

During his second experience with the opening of the portal, just a few decades before the Age of the Eternal Moon, he decided to operate by himself.  While he managed to close it, he warned Laneria that it was not permanently closed and could re-open within 100 years.  It was in divining for the day of re-opening that he discovered his affliction. Thus was born the Seekers of the Eternal Moon, who sought to spend their eternity in this world and not the next.

It was an acolyte by the name of Kenaii who discovered, in the Death-King's domain, a stash of excesses stone which had been quarried to build His throne. In this stash, he found a piece just small enough to bring home and just large enough to be worth doing so.

Kenaii chiseled away and away at this stone, turning into a cube with intricate designs so as to enhance its magical properties. Even far from its source, it slowly breathed a soothing blue glow and radiated the Moon God's magic. Surely this artifact would have the power to keep one in this realm indefinitely.

Every experiment failed, and with each failure and each new sign of age, Lunarius grew even more frantic.  In one of his panics, he deemed Kenaii a failure, accusing him of lying about the cube's origins. But, the moment he raised his voice to his most faithful acolyte, the cube began to dim humming while it turned to a plain grey, at which point it went silent.  The panicked acolyte and the enraged leader,
too, fell silent.  The pair stared at the artifact for a tense moment which felt like the eternity they sought.

The sudden light was blinding.  The high-pitched noise was
loud enough to temporarily dull one's hearing, but Lunarius realized quickly
that Kenaii would not answer him -- he had disappeared.  When the pain in his eyes dulled enough for
him to open them, he saw that the cube had returned to its normal state.  And when he found a pool in which to check
his reflection, he discovered that he had returned to his normal state, too.

Research accelerated.  Old methods were abandoned.  Deceit and distrust were known to overload the cube, but when it was given life, it seemed that life had
to be sent elsewhere. Continuous use could keep the elf alive forever; all he
needed now was Independence.

He lay himself upon
the altar. By all calculations, this should work.  Now that the process was started, no
interruption could halt it.

A voice echoed in
his mind -- a deep, monotone voice that matched only one description. "You
know I would never punish a follower by sending them to another's realm. Such is not the natural order." Lunarius smirked as his deity spoke to him. "Nor can you enter my domain after all you have done.  Therefore, it would seem that you must be given what you seek.

"But know this: you also cannot enter the realm of my sister. Her touch will destroy your flesh, and you will cease to be, both body and soul.  You will find yourself with talents that suit your path -- talents that lead the living to scorn you." *The living...?*

"Your curse will be to straddle my realm.  You will be bound to night but forbidden truth. You will be neither living nor dead. Your immortality will be a perversion of the one you sought -- you will require sustenance from the other intelligent races, and your former sustenance will never slake your thirst."

Unrelenting agony. A burst of light. Darkness. Screaming -- he realizes it is his own wailing he
hears.  Wet, sticky, drenched in... what? No heartbeat, and... lighter, somehow.  A sweet smell -- blood.  His own hands touching his face. Eye sockets, bloody, but otherwise empty. Waves of pain, sleep the only escape.

Though he does not know it yet, the chaos already afflicting him has latched onto this curse and shall spread it to all who he drains.

Thus was the first vampire born.