The Scions & Forsaken Pt2 - The Cost of Mercy

Though united by exile, the Forsaken do not walk a single path. In the centuries since the Sundering, their people have splintered into three great movements. Each was born from grief, and each shaped by a different answer to a single question:What now?

These movements are not formal factions but spiritual banners. They guide thought, inspire loyalty, and shape the ways Forsaken live, lead, and die. Most Forsaken Houses align with one, though they may share blood with others. Among the Forsaken, it is not uncommon to fight beside kin and argue with them in the same breath.

The Seekers of Forgiveness

“We did not betray. We bled to protect. And still… we hope.”

The Seekers of Forgiveness believe the Forsaken were wronged, but not lost. They dream of reconciliation, not just with the Scions, but with the world itself. They walk the hardest path: one of diplomacy, compassion, and self-sacrifice.

Forgiveness is not expected. It is earned.

These Forsaken often act as healers, wanderers, and emissaries. They intervene in conflicts not to win but to save lives. They build bridges faster than the others can burn them. And when they are scorned, they endure. They suffer in silence, believing that every act of mercy is a prayer made flesh. Many have died trying to prove that the Forsaken are not what the world believes. But if even one Scion sees the truth, they say, it is worth it.

They are the quiet hope that some wounds can still heal.

The Seekers of Vengeance

“We showed mercy once. Never again.”

The Seekers of Vengeance believe forgiveness is weakness and that exile is not a wound. It is a declaration of war.

To them, the Sundering proved the hypocrisy of the Scions, who spoke of destiny and justice but responded to compassion with genocide. The Vengeful reject the divine plan outright. They do not want a seat at the table. They want to shatter the table and bury its architects in the rubble.

Cunning, militant, and merciless, these Forsaken operate in shadow and strike without warning. They are known for their brutal tactics, but also for their clarity of purpose. They protect their own with unflinching loyalty. They rescue the lost, punish betrayal, and never leave their dead behind.

To cross a Seeker of Vengeance is to invite a reckoning. They are not many, but they do not need to be.

They are fire waiting for fuel.

The Seekers of Secrecy

“History is a story written in ash. Let us vanish into silence.”

The Seekers of Secrecy believe there is no redemption, no revenge, and no salvation. Only survival.

They seek to erase the Forsaken from memory, not out of shame, but strategy. If the world forgets the Sundering, the war, the bloodline, then perhaps the Forsaken can live in peace. Hidden cities, lost records, vanishing trails. Their lives are shadows behind closed doors.

These are the cartographers of hidden paths, the archivists of vanished lore, the guardians of ruins no map dares mark. They destroy books, rewrite stories, and leave no witness behind. To be shown the location of a Seeker sanctuary is a mark of absolute trust.

Among the other Forsaken, they are respected but feared. They speak little, share less, and are rumored to carry blades that have never known daylight. To them, survival is the only truth that matters. Secrets are the only sanctuary.

In a world that cast them out, the Forsaken built their own foundations. Where nations fell silent and bloodlines were severed, they created Houses, not of noble lineage, but of loyalty, necessity, and bond. A Forsaken without a House is a soul adrift, vulnerable to the cold, the blades of strangers, and worse still, the despair of isolation.

A House is not always family by blood, but it is always family by choice.

Each House is formed from shared values, goals, and oaths. Some are small, little more than a traveling band bound by a mutual cause. Others are vast underground enclaves, hiding entire communities beneath forgotten ruins or deep forests veiled in misdirection. There are Houses built around ancient relics, others around legendary founders, and some that exist solely to protect a single child or prophecy.

What unites them all is the Oath: a vow taken by every member, regardless of rank or role. To betray a House is to be cast out not just from its shelter, but from all of Forsaken society.

Common Traits of a House:

The Sigil:Every House bears a unique mark or symbol. It may be worn openly or tattooed in secret, sewn into clothing, or etched into hidden armor plates. The sigil is sacred, its defilement is an act of war.

The Keeper:Each House has a Keeper, the steward of its history and customs. Some Keepers are scholars. Others are warriors, oracles, or relic-bound ghosts. It is their duty to preserve memory, not for glory, but so the House never forgets who it is.

The Purpose:All Houses have a reason to exist. For some, it is vengeance. For others, redemption, protection, or even the preservation of knowledge. The Purpose is the heartbeat of the House, and members are raised with its words whispered over cradles and grave sites alike.

Inter-House Relations

Though the Forsaken do not have nations in the way other races do, alliances and rivalries between Houses can be just as fierce. Some Houses refuse to work with those aligned with a different Movement. Others send their best to aid a rival House’s cause, bound by oaths older than the Sundering itself. It is not uncommon for Forsaken of different Houses to duel in secret, to settle disputes of honor. Yet just as often, Houses will gather in solemn councils beneath moonless skies to share resources, plan joint efforts, or mourn the loss of a shared ancestor.

Adoption and Honor

Because the Forsaken know what it means to be cast out, most Houses permit the adoption of outsiders, even non-Forsaken provided they take the Oath and prove their loyalty. These adopted members are often called “Bondkin,” and in time, many rise to positions of great influence within their new families.

There are tales of entire Houses being rebuilt around a single Bondkin who brought salvation when all seemed lost.

Once, the Forsaken worshipped as the Scions did. They sang the same hymns, lit the same sacred fires, and walked in reverence of the Forsworn and the gods who shaped the world. But when they were cast out, the temples closed their gates. The gods fell silent. The sacred texts spoke of them only as a warning, never again as kin.

Faith, once a compass, shattered.

In the void that remained, a question began to echo: Why were we spared?

From this, the fragmented faith of the Forsaken took root, not in answers, but in seeking. It is called The Search for Purpose, and it is less a religion than a pilgrimage of the soul. Every Forsaken who dares to believe asks the same thing: If the gods allowed us to live, then for what reason?

This belief is not unified. It splinters and spirals, with countless sects and personal revelations forming an ever-shifting mosaic of interpretations. They do not build temples. They build questions.

The Fractured Sects

For each god once revered by the Scions, there is now a Forsaken sect that claims it was their patron who spared them, not out of punishment, but for a hidden task yet to come. These sects often clash with each other, each believing their truth to be closest to the divine spark. Debates between them are intense and often dangerous, but rarely lethal. Among the Forsaken, belief is personal, even when it is divisive.

Some sects claim the gods weep for their children cast aside. Others say the gods test them with silence, waiting to see what strength blooms in exile. A few whisper that the gods who ruled Carcer are dead, and the Forsaken are their last living echo.

The Harbingers of the Next Era

One sect, however, has begun to rise beyond whispers. Called The Harbingers of the Next Era, they reject the idea that any Scion god spared them. Instead, they claim a new force, something older, stranger, or yet unborn, intervened at the moment of their exile.

They do not know what it is. But they claim to feel it stirring.

The Harbingers believe the Forsaken were not saved to serve, but to unmake. They speak of a coming age in which the old gods will fall silent forever, and the Forsaken will guide the world into its next cycle. Their prophecies are grim, their rituals secretive. Some have begun gathering weapons. Others have begun hunting for ancient relics and forbidden knowledge.

Their core belief is this: The new age cannot begin until the last Forsworn dies.

Most Forsaken view the Harbingers with a mix of fear and fascination. Some see them as heretics. Others as prophets. But few deny that their numbers grow.

Faith as Survival

For the Forsaken, faith is rarely about peace. It is about endurance. It is not blind worship, but a question shouted into the void and answered only by action. To seek purpose is to keep walking even when the path is lost.

Some carry relics. Others chant forgotten prayers. A few mark their bodies with sacred scars or inscribe mantras into their weapons. Their gods may not speak, but the Forsaken speak back, in every act of protection, resistance, and remembrance.

They may not agree on who saved them. But they agree on this: They were spared for something, and when the time comes, they will be ready.

To live as Forsaken is to live with vigilance. Every day is a negotiation between safety and suspicion, survival and identity. Without cities of their own, at least none that are widely known, most Forsaken live in hidden enclaves, roving bands, or among societies that barely tolerate them. Their lives are built on secrecy, loyalty, and the will to endure.

Daily Life

Forsaken lives are shaped by necessity. They are scavengers, crafters, warriors, and wanderers. Some live off the land, moving through forest and ruin, while others work as mercenaries, healers, or scribes among the edges of foreign cities. Many trades are passed down within Houses: weapon forging, poison brewing, mapmaking, relic recovery, or magical warding.

Trust is rare. Community is sacred.

In Forsaken bands, every task carries weight. Cooking for your House is as respected as guarding it. Teaching a child the Oath is no less vital than defending them in battle. Everything is done with purpose. Nothing is wasted.

Clothing and Appearance

The clothing of the Forsaken speaks of function before flourish, yet even here, symbolism is everywhere. Most garments are made from salvaged, hand-repaired, or repurposed materials. Stitchwork is often visible, not hidden, worn like a badge of survival. Scars are not concealed. They are marked with beads, thread, or etched sigils to honor what was endured.

Colors tend to be earthen or dark, to blend with stone, ash, or forest. However, some Forsaken adorn themselves with flashes of ancestral color, a House’s red, a sibling’s green, a parent’s silver, always carried close to the heart or wrist.

Forsaken rarely own many outfits. Most have one primary set of gear suited to travel, battle, and ceremony alike. It is common for these clothes to be worn for years, gradually embroidered with new memories.

Cultural Costuming Variants

Seekers of Forgiveness - often style themselves closer to the Scions they once called kin. Their robes are cleaner, their silhouettes more structured, but always practical. Many carry supplies on their person at all times, never assuming hospitality will be offered.

Seekers of Vengeance - favor military precision. Entire Houses often dress in matching cuts and designs, using unique insignias or armor patterns to identify role and rank. Functional armor, flexible leathers, and symbolic weaponry are common.

Seekers of Secrecy - prefer to blend in or disappear. Neutral tones, hooded cloaks, and hidden pockets dominate their wardrobe. Many carry thieves’ tools, mapping kits, or relic pouches at all times. Their gear is modular, ready to be shed or concealed in moments.

Followers of the Search for Purpose tend to display tokens or tools of their chosen god. A reminder of the Forsworn they have chosen to follow. Harbingers of the Next Era are the most visually distinct. They collect trophies from the fallen, especially from Forsworn and Scions. Bones, sigils, broken relics, and even teeth are woven into cloaks or armor. Some brand themselves with prophetic glyphs, while others carry weapons sealed with unknown glowing marks.

Hair and Cloth Rites

Hair carries deep symbolic weight among the Forsaken. It is common to braid strands of a fallen comrade’s cloak or a child’s first scarf into one’s own hair as a sign of memory and unity. Some wear strips of ancestral garments as sashes, or wrap their weapons in cloth taken from loved ones. These gestures say: You walk with me still.

Magic runs in the blood of the Forsaken. It is not learned, but remembered, a legacy that once made them kin to the Scions, and still binds them to the same divine essence that shaped the first spell ever cast. But unlike their estranged cousins, the Forsaken do not inherit power with reverence. They seize it with bloodied hands.

To the Forsaken, magic is survival. It is vengeance. It is defiance, and sometimes, it is corruption.

All Forsaken begin with an intuitive grasp of magic. Even those who do not train formally can sense a spell's shape, recognize ambient aether, or manipulate raw essence in ways that seem instinctive. This deep connection grants them 2 extra spell points at character creation, just like the Scions, a lingering echo of their shared origin.

But where Scions cast magic with caution and duty, the Forsaken wield it like a blade. They do not fear forbidden knowledge. They chase it.

Forbidden Paths and Lost Teachings

Cast out from temples and schools, the Forsaken carved their own grim libraries. In ruins, under shattered altars, and within the bones of fallen cities, they unearthed spells the Scions deemed too dangerous to remember. Some whisper that the Forsaken know how to twist a soul from its body, how to wake the dead without mercy, how to speak to the stars and receive answers they cannot unhear.

Many of these paths are fueled by desperation. A hunger to reclaim what was lost, or to make the world regret ever casting them aside.

Some Forsaken seek ancient magics not to destroy, but to heal the breach between peoples. Others walk the thin line between power and damnation, convinced that only through forbidden arts can true freedom ever be claimed.

The greatest danger lies not in what they find, but in what it changes.

The Harbingers of the Next Era are especially known for their relentless pursuit of mastery over the unspeakable rites, ancient powers so dangerous they once brought the Forsworn to the brink of ruin. To the Harbingers, these forces are not merely power to be wielded, but prophecy waiting to be fulfilled.

The Forsaken have no grand cities of their own, no banner flying over sovereign lands. Instead, they live among the other peoples of the world, concealed by silence and subtlety. In appearance, they are nearly identical to the Scions, a truth that has long served as both protection and curse. To most, they are simply another Scion, distant, dignified, and inscrutable. And that is how they prefer it.

In Plain Sight

The majority of Forsaken dwell hidden within existing cities and cultures. They adopt false names, forged lineages, and quiet roles such as scribes, healers, artisans, and advisors. They live within Scion quarters in mixed cities, serve in courts and councils, or travel as solitary wanderers. Wherever they are found, they are careful to speak little of their past and less of their beliefs. Their homes are modest and unremarkable, their behavior impeccably measured. To be noticed is to risk discovery, and discovery brings danger.

Secret Enclaves

Though rare, there are hidden places in the world where Forsaken gather freely. These are not cities in the conventional sense, but veiled sanctuaries tucked in forests, beneath mountains, or woven into the ruins of forgotten temples. Each enclave is heavily warded and fiercely protected, often known only through riddles or maps that can only be read under moonlight or fire. Within these havens, Forsaken study lost magic, preserve their oaths, and raise children with knowledge of who they truly are. These places are sacred to them, half monastery, half refuge, and to betray one is to betray all.

Nomads and Wanderers

Some Forsaken reject hiding and reject roots entirely. They walk the roads of the world as nomads, scholars, or mercenaries, offering services where needed and vanishing before questions arise. These wanderers often serve as messengers between scattered Forsaken, carrying news, warnings, and forgotten knowledge. Many find meaning in movement, refusing to let exile become stagnation.

A Home of Secrets

For the Forsaken, home is not a place. It is a memory. A story shared in whispers. A sigil carved into a stone where none will see. They carry it in the way they speak, in the way they watch a sunrise, in the quiet oaths they still whisper when the stars are right. And though they may dwell among many, they belong only to each other.

To the outside world, the Forsaken are little more than ghosts. Whispers. A half-remembered scandal buried beneath centuries of Scion scripture. Their appearance is so close to that of the Scions that most mortals cannot tell them apart, a fact the Forsaken have long used to their advantage. Only among the eldest races and the most learned scholars is the truth even suspected: that some of those walking around as Scions are not Scions at all. And the Forsaken prefer to keep it that way.

Their true history is a closely guarded secret, passed down through blood and oath, never written, never traded. To most of Carcer, the Forsaken are a myth. To those who know better, they are a warning.

Scions – The Shining Lie

The Forsaken hold no illusions about their estranged kin. To them, the Scions are not saviors, but the architects of betrayal, creatures so bound by pride and prophecy that they would cast out their own for showing mercy.

Some Forsaken still long for reconciliation, believing the Scions might one day remember compassion. Others burn with hatred and plot their downfall. But all remember what was taken from them, and none will forget.

Dworn – Old Wounds, New Deals

Though the Forsaken once stood among those who oppressed the Dworn, many now view them as kindred spirits, shaped by service, scarred by betrayal.

Open friendships are rare, but pragmatic alliances do exist. Forsaken smugglers trade in Dworn artifacts. Hidden libraries hold scripts penned in shared rebellion. And some Houses still honor ancient oaths to Dworn bloodlines that once fought beside them.

Still, trust comes slowly. Many Dworn remember the shackles more than the saviors.

Orcs – A Fractured Legacy

The Forsaken once bled to save their deformed kin from extinction, and in return, the orcs have risen without gratitude. To many Forsaken, this is the cruelest irony of all.

Yet despite their disappointment, the Forsaken still use the orcs to great effect. They are easily led, quick to fight, and forgetful of past commands. With the right words, they can be turned into armies. And while they may not be worthy heirs, they remain useful tools.

Humans – Unwritten Potential

Humans emerged after the Sundering. They were never part of the ancient betrayals and owe no debt to either side.

To the Forsaken, this makes them dangerous, and valuable. Their ignorance can be shaped. Their loyalty, earned.

The Seekers of Forgiveness have found fertile ground among humans, offering stories, protection, or wisdom in exchange for trust. Meanwhile, the Seekers of Vengeance view humanity as a raw material to forge into a weapon against the Scions.

Most humans never realize they are speaking with a Forsaken at all.

Beastkin, Fey Folk, and Others – Mirrors and Mysteries

The Forsaken recognize the exiles and outcasts of the world when they see them. Beastkin clans, wandering Fey, and other fringe peoples are not trusted, but they are respected.

Some Forsaken see reflections of their own struggle in these strange folk, and pacts are sometimes forged in secret. Others consider them too dangerous, too alien, or too whimsical to be reliable.

Dealings with these races are usually handled by individual Houses, and vary wildly in tone.