Black/Judgment

Robe worn by pardoners serving Velka, the Goddess of Sin. The pardoners attire is uniformly black in color and said to be imbued with Velka's mystical power, which provides resistance against all manner of magic.

A mask honoring an ancient goddess. Sin was said to be her domain, but the name of this goddess is long forgotten. Little is known about what purpose the mask served, only that it was worn by a person of great authority.

The woman knelt down next to the child, small and pale and frail, whispering sweet nothings into her ears, stroking the feathery hair atop her head. She was afraid, and lonely in this cold and dark world, but the woman told her that it was safe, that in here, no one could harm her, and she could be out of reach from the beings that would sooner end her life because they feared what she was, and the power that she possessed, Life Drain. The gods feared it, but she had saved her, and convinced them to keep her here, in a prison created by by the greatest artist ever known. She would need her one day, the woman said to the child, that she would have to remain in her, in this cold and dark world, until it was time for the rulers of the world to change. Things were being set into place, and already she had met someone who too did not like what the gods had said, a mighty man who wore stone, who hated the dragon that the gods allowed to do as he pleased, no matter how horrific. She told the child that one day, soon, the world would change, and she would guide it by the hand.

This was the last time the woman ever saw the child, the poor little halfbreed.

Years passed, and the woman was right, the world changed, for better worse it had changed, just not in the way she suspected. The gods left, the cowards and liars, leaving the world open for anyone to take, and so she sought out the Cursed to take it for themselves, but in the end it was all for naught. The world could not be so easily steered, and it ignored her own wishes.

In the end, she supposed, so long after she had spoken to the child, did she realize the way of the world, now that she was a relic to it. Once truths and facts were now mere bed time stories, and the mighty gods she had known were now nothing more than legends, and while she had made it out better than most of them, she still lacked the power and followers she once had.

And so the world continued to turn.