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frantic-fiction · 5 months

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Reoccurring Nightmares

(Gif: margonite-seer)

Astarion x GN!Reader / Astarion x Good!Durge

Summary: A night reveals that maybe the past is not left behind, and maybe old urges have begun again. As people always say healing is never linear.

Triggers/Tags: Implied mentions of self harm. Violent topics. Angst Hurt/comfort.

Minor spoilers for Durges plot line nothing very specific but you have been warned.

Word Count: 2.2k

(Quick note I gave reader Tav's name so hope y'all don't mind)

Cold damp earth thunders under your feet as you run, each step echoes in the silent woods. Your chest heaves, each breath a meager attempt to fill lungs that can't seem to feel satisfied.

Why are you out here?

The forest is a maze, and you navigate it with urgency, propelled forward by the rhythmic pounding of your heart. It threatens to break free, like a wild creature desperate to escape its cage. You don’t stop, fueled by the momentum and the all-consuming fear clawing at your throat.

Why were you running?

This isn’t the first time your memory has betrayed you, leaving you disoriented in the unknown.

Ducking beneath a fallen tree, the rough bark scratches against your skin. You turn sharply and press on, the underbrush snapping beneath your hurried steps. The surroundings are a blur, darkness shrouding any discernible features. The moon, a mere sliver in the night sky, casts an eerie glow through the dense canopy.

A plan forms in the chaos of your thoughts. The distant sound of water becomes a lifeline; a river might offer refuge from a pursuer. You move toward the sou-

Your foot snags a root, and you collide with a rock. Blood fills your mouth, the metallic taste jarring, familiar. In the darkness, your hand tightens around a shard of glass. The moonlight reflects off its jagged edges, casting faint ethereal patterns on the forest floor.

Frogs and crickets harmonize in the night, their symphony a stark contrast to the turmoil within. The beauty of the scene clashes with the disarray of your mind. A brief moment of clarity emerges, allowing you to catch your breath.

What happened?

You examine the shard of glass, uncurling your fingers for a better look. A deeper wound reveals itself, and the blood flows unabated. The taste and sight is both revolting and comforting, a paradoxical sensation that grounds you in the reality of pain.

Where did the glass come from? Memories fracture, and images of a shared life flood your mind. The house on the outskirts, memories of love and healing. Someone's absence looms, silver curls and sharp teeth; Astarion, a question unanswered.

Knees pulled to your chest, you notice the blood-soaked clothes. Panic sets in; that part of you, the monster believed buried, threatens to resurface. Did his blood taint you again? Did you harm Astarion?

Jerking to the side, you vomit, the weight of imagined horrors overwhelming you. The riverbed offers a cold sanctuary, and you scrub the blood away. The water numbs your body, but you persist until your fingers ache. The raw emptiness grows, time stops, and the world holds its breath in shared grief. You can’t face your friends; the word "friend" is tainted by your actions. Astarion’s absence is a void you can’t bear.

Wasn’t this the fear? The fear that kept you awake, haunted by the possibility of losing control. The dark whispers that the urges would resurface.

Your reflection in the river, blood-soaked and tormented, triggers waves of self-loathing. The glass shard gleams, a macabre symbol of your descent into the abyss.

Fingers graze the cold surface, and a distant voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Tav!” The sound pierces through the chaos, freezing your movements.

“TAV!” Astarion’s voice, a lifeline in the disarray.

Frantically searching, he emerges from the trees, disheveled and relieved. He is by your side in a moment joining you halfway into the river. He cups your cheek, his touch offers a brief respite, a moment of grounding in the maelstrom.

Words are cement in your mouth. You're mystified by the reality that is facing you. Astarion is here, in front of you. And, in fact, very much alive. You reach up with a shaky hand to barely caress his cheek, as if a more stern touch would shatter the fragile moment. He grabs your wrist and kisses your cold palm softly.

“You’re alive,” you choke, collapsing into his chest sobs rolls through your body.

He momentarily freezes in confusion at your words before refocusing at the current urgency of your state. Pressing you tighter against him, Astarion strokes your hair and gives you a gentle kiss to your hairline. Maybe he had just fed before finding you, or maybe it's a testament to how long you have suffered the freezing night, but he’s warm. You bury yourself deeper in his embrace, hiding your tear-streaked face in his neck.

“Of course, my love,” He softly says and holds you a moment longer, allowing you to feel the truth of something he’s not quite understanding but knows is important just the same. But little by little, he begins to pry you from his body.

“No,” you make a pathetic whine in protest, desperately trying to stay attached. Too afraid that once you let go, he’ll disappear and the truth of what you did will be brought back into the moonlight.

“Hush now, my sweet,” Astarion stands up suddenly and removes the heavy jacket you had given him. Kneeling back down, he drapes it over your shoulders.

“You have been in the middle of the woods in freezing weather for gods know how long. And you've had a bit of a swim.” His thumb brushes the line of your cheekbone. “Let’s get you home so I can warm you up, and if you are feeling okay tonight, we could discuss what my darling was doing alone out here.”

He doesn’t leave room to argue, and you have none to give. So he takes you in his arms and begins to walk. You’re too tired to speak, so you simply curl closer into him and resume your position, face tucked into the crook of his neck. His scent invades your nostrils, and finally, since waking up in the woods earlier this evening, you breathe a sigh of relief.

***

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you awake on the plush sofa in your living room. Astarion must have moved it because it is now as close to the fireplace as safety would allow. The only thing standing in its way was the intricately sculpted metal table Dammon had gifted you for a housewarming gift.

What seemed to be the entire house's stock of blankets was now piled on top of you, effectively cocooning you in cotton and silks. You try to sit up, but find that no strength is left in your bones.

“Stari?” You croak, your voice hoarse from your sobs.

There is not an immediate response, just the crackling fire and the rustling of dinnerware from the kitchen. You don’t bother to call out again; you know he’ll be in to check on you soon. When it comes to you, Astarion’s mother hen tendencies rear their head with great urgency.

While you wait, you stare transfixed into the fire, mesmerized by the crackling wood and swirling ash. The chaos of fire has always been interesting to you. In small quantities, fire can bring warmth to a home and light to darkness. But uncontrolled fire burns, burns everything in its path. No mercy, no complexities, just fire and fuel; anything in between is insignificant in the grand scheme. It's familiar, too familiar.

Maybe this topic was best left untouched; maybe you hated fire. After all, fire is made to burn.

“Oh good, I was just about to wake you,” Astarion sets a tray on the coffee table. “I made tea,”

He starts to unearth your body from your blanket tomb and helps you into a more seated position before moving to the armchair. You catch his wrist; his crimson eyes meet yours. You're not entirely sure what you want; you just can’t bear him being so far. Not after thinking he was lost to you forever.

“Hold me?” The words are barely above a whisper, hesitant as if Astarion has ever denied you anything. “Please,” you tack on for good measure, though you're not sure why.

“Of course, my sweet,”

Handing you your tea, Astarion motions you to lean forward so that he can slip in behind you. Sandwiched between his legs, he wraps an arm around your middle and eases you against his solid torso.

He’s warm; you must have been right. During your trek in the woods, he must have stepped out to feed. Now that the winter is approaching, he’s been hunting larger game; he likes to be warm, says it’s not always fair when you're the only one bringing heat into the relationship.

He silently urges you to drink your tea, and you do. It’s quiet; neither of you speaks; you simply drink your tea and Astarion comforts. Hands gently trail up and down your arms, in between peppering tender kisses on your neck and shoulders.

You know what he’s doing. You’ve done the same tactics on him plenty of times in the past. He’s waiting. Waiting for you to speak first. To share with him why you were in those woods. What horrors brought you there. It’s an unspoken rule between two very broken people. You offer each other comfort, the safety each has lacked in the past and wait. If or when the person wishes to speak, the other listens.

But how do you even begin to describe the night that has occurred? The terror, the guilt, the hatred. It all just boils in your chest like wet tar. You can’t even really explain what happened to yourself. Once the tea is finished, you pass the cup to Astarion, who in turn returns it to the tray.

With a deep breath, you say simply, “I thought it happened again,” he knows immediately what you're saying and holds you just a bit tighter.

“I-I-I don’t know what happened, b-but I was just running. I was… Gods, Astarion, I was so scared.”

Pushing the blankets further away from you, you turn in his arms and wrap around his neck. His eyes reflect the same sadness and fear you are feeling. “I was covered in blood, and then…then all I could think about was you,”

Tears begin to roll one by one down your cheeks; he collect them with his thumbs. Tears of his begin to follow a similar path. “I thought it finally happened,” you're crying harder now, hiccuping between words.

“I thought he finally made me kill you,” words began to fail you from there. You pathetically tried to say more but the only sounds that escape are choked hiccups and wet sobs. When you know you have no hope of continuing you simply hide your face in your hands, no longer wanting to face the world.

“We’re okay, little love. Everythings okay.” Astarion is rubbing soft circles into your back, repeating calming phrases until they stick. “I’m here, nothing can change that. You’re okay darling.”

It takes a lot of lovely words and small touches before your breathing calms down and you seem to have run out of your tear supply for that night. But even then Astarion doesn’t let go. You two stay interlocked, warmed by the slowly dwindling fire. He clears up your scattered thoughts.

Astarion's voice, tinged with concern and a hint of reassurance, breaks through the remnants of your panic. "It was probably just one of your nightmares," he offers, a familiar acknowledgment that nightmares are woven into the fabric of your existence. In the quiet aftermath of your ordeal, the weight of his words settles in the still air.

As he gently extracts one of your hands from your tear-streaked face, the dim light catches the glint of a heavy bandage wrapped around your trembling fingers. The glass shard, a cruel messenger, the night will leave its mark. With a tender touch, Astarion guides your gaze to the bandage, and then, with a careful motion, he lifts the fabric of your pants to expose a larger wound on your thigh, neatly covered in thick gauze.

The size of the injury is alarming, and the realization dawns that stitches would have been a necessity. Astarion's eyes reflect a regret that mirrors your own. "I should have been there, I'm so very sorry, my love," he whispers, his voice carrying the weight of an unspoken vow to protect you from the horrors that lurk within your own mind.

As you open your mouth to argue or perhaps offer words of comfort, Astarion anticipates your protest. "Regardless of what you are going to say," he interrupts, his words cutting through the heavy air, "from now on, I will be feeding exclusively when you are awake." The admission reveals a vulnerability in his eyes—a fear that lingers from the night when the scent of your blood permeated the air, and you were nowhere to be found.

"There was nothing more frightening than coming home to the smell of your blood and you gone." His hand begin to play with a strand of your hair. "Not to mention the absolute nightmare of a talk I’m to receive once I call for Shadowheart come morning, because I’m still not convinced you didn’t contract hypothermia during your midnight swim.”

A small smile plays on your lips, a silent acknowledgment of the impending lecture from Shadowheart, whose disapproval you can almost taste. Astarion seems to relish in your smile, and he cups your jaw, pressing his forehead to yours in an intimate gesture that transcends words.

"That is all behind us," he declares, a note of determination in his voice. "Our wounds are still fresh, but we are here, and we are healing. We'll get through this, we always have." His smirk carries a promise of resilience, and you nod in agreement, surrendering to the irresistible urge to find solace in the warmth of his lips pressed against yours.

Author's notes: Oh boy I haven't posted any of my writings since 2018 but damn BG3 has sparked something in me. Astarion is something special and I love him. If anyone has some ideas they would like to throw my way I would loved to see them.

Feedback is welcome, hate is not! Have a nice day, cheers.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x dark urge #astarion #astarion imagine #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #baldur's gate #fanfic #writing #reader insert #astarion ancunin #angst #hurt/comfort

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kintheartist · 1 year

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|| Macea the Specter ||⁠ Sharing her body with a Margonite demon in the form of Possession, Macea has leaned into the twisted appearance that once being a Mordrem minion gave her. Donning a half-mask to accentuate her Mordrem horn, she certainly makes a horrifying sight as she steps out of the shadows…⁠ ⁠ I absolutely LOVED working on this character for my friend. Cool plant characters are just 💗💗💗⁠

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #sylvari #gw2 fan submission #fantasy art #character design

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meeeeeeese · 9 months

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So what's the deal with Wizard ascension?

(spoilers for SotO ahead)

So something introduced in SotO is the rite of ascension, a ritual that empowers an individual by connecting them to the flow of magic, and in exchange losing most of your memories. It's what separates The Wizards from any old mage on Tyria.

And as many people know, there's another ritual, also called the ritual of ascension, that empowers you. This one however doesn't grant immprtality, doesn't remove memories, and is supposed to function via 'communing with the gods'.

So the big question is, is the Augury Rock ritual the same as Isgarren's ritual? The gods have taken credit for a ton of stuff over the years (The Creation of Tyria, The bloodstone and a ton of artifacts looted from the pre-existing races of Tyria) so it wouldn't surprise me if they were lying once again about being the source of the Ascension ritual's power. And it'd make sense because once someone ascends and connects to the flow of magic they'd sense six powerful beings and not knowing about the Dragons, they'd assume it was the gods.

The immortality thing is a bit of a stickler, it's possible that Isgarren upgraded the ritual. Or maybe immortality isn't a part of the ritual and they have a separate spell to maintain life. However it does make me wonder if they are separate.

Now last but not least is the removal of memories. The wizards claim it's to 'make room' but it's very possible that Isgarren is lying to the others and memory removal isn't an inherent part of the ritual. But if he's lying, then why? Here's where I get into idle speculation but if Isgarren added the memory erasement himself then it might be because of Eparch.

So we gather throughout the story that Eparch and Isgarren have history, and that Eparch once even walked the halls of the Wizard's Tower.

However, as we know, Eparch eventually decided to run off and become the king of demons* after Isgarren denied him a spot on the Wizard's council. So my theory is that he didn't always take away the memories, but after the Eparch incident he made a new rule to prevent it happening again. Perhaps it's a test to see how far you're willing to go to protect Tyria, after all, if you can't give up your memories, how can you be expected to give up your life? The other option I can think of is it's a way to enforce the wizard's neutrality on the affairs of the surface. So that wizard's don't run in and intervene every time their home town and loved ones are threatened.

Either way though there's a lot we still don't know and I'm sure more information will come out as we get closer to Zojja making her final choice.

*so one thing about Eparch I'm not clear on is if he was always a demon. The Margonites prove it's possible to transform a mortal into a demon, but it's currently unknown if that happened to Eparch. Once again I guess we'll find out more in later releases.

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #gw2 spoilers #SotO spoilers #I want more lore Anet! Give it to me!#moose lore posting

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sunsrefuge · 1 year

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alright, 🖊 for Eliana and maybe Liifa ? (@instantdepresso)

SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG... IDK WHY IT TOOK ME SO LONG... MY WRITING BRAIN DIED FOR A WHILE... THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE !! <3 <3 <3

I did one point for each, and then one for both of them!!

Eliana’s young life was spent mostly in the Court, with her family! Their mom was always serious about them getting out, and most of them tried their best to. Eliana… didn’t. She wanted to stay near her mother and thought that getting power within the Court might help her to make sure her family was safe! Unfortunately, a lot of Courtiers would try to use fake promises to lure her in…

Liifa’s a fully-trained Priest of Kormir! … he just. never got officiated. :’) you know, stuff that gets revoked when you accept a book of Abaddon’s from a Margonite! That said, his reverence for Kormir has never left him, and neither has any of his training! He holds it very close to himself, in such a way that he often unintentionally hides it from everyone around him.

Liifa does the maintenance and caretaking for Eliana’s legs! She loses her lower legs while they’re trapped in Gandara, so he assembled new legs for her out of scarab carapace/bone. :D She gets chronic pains in her legs (plus phantom pains) and as a trained field medic, he’s clearly just the best person to be taking care of her! Of course. Haha. no other reason :) he’s not pining what do you m And she always appreciates having her best friend around to help!! ♥

#im so so sorry this took so long idk what happened to my brain kjhdkfjaldkf #the event yesterday seemed to kickstart me !! so !! >:)#thank you so much for the ask !! <3 #c:Eliana of Dusk #c:Liifa

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scythe-of-house-aurkus · 2 years

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Two character concepts that are percolating through my head that won't leave me alone:

Some kind of fractal explorer, possibly a time-displaced Margonite??? (this is tbh just an excuse for some fashion wars ideas)

That one salad commander idea from a while back for whom "violence is as much a tool as diplomacy" and "nice is not kind"

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margonite-seer · 1 year

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These new tattoos on gemstore helped me finally transform Kahina into a wannabe Margonite.

She isn't a "true" Margonite, as that is basically impossible to achieve nowadays in the lore, but she sure did create and attach those wings on her back. She cannot fly with them, but they are awesome gliders.

#kahina hettunawy #guild wars 2 #gw2 oc

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darkeiya · 2 years

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Halloween is my favorite holiday both in and out of Guild Wars 2, so I drew a lil thing to celebrate! Featuring Israa as a jackal, Fidesa as a Margonite sorcerer, and Joko as GW1 Joko because you can’t improve upon perfection.

Figured the Margonites being ancestors to the jackals made it a cute (if obscure) momma+daughter costume theme. :B

#the darke arts #guild wars 2 #gw2 #palawa joko #darke's ocs #fidesa #israa the horrid

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gglitchshit · 10 months

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the random ass feminine urge to transform gw2 lucien into a margonite

#every other month i just get a new idea #i rly dont know what to do with him in gw2 sdfdjsfsdjkfgs #theres too many options but also not enough #glitch.txt

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legendary-alliance-stance · 2 years

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intrusive thoughts time with mallyx

#A Lost Margonite #the rev legend dialogue is very funny when ur rev IS the legend.

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khorren · 11 months

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Thank you @mystery-salad for the tag. muah. much appreciated :)

Associations meme - I picked AU Aoife for this one.

seasoning: garlic, onions

Weather: Cold, clear mornings with a slight breeze.

color: Dark blues

sky: clear blue with light cloud or mist

magical power: bunch of dead dudes in her head giving her weirdo powers

plant: edible ones. Finding carrots out in the wild is always a plus

Weapon: Partial to blades of any style, but happy to take up anything and whack people with it.

school subject: Old languages

social media: She’d be the sort of person to have a very small private discord group with like 4 people, but then a public facebook page where she posts like once a year.

makeup product: eyeliner/eye makeup

candy: Zhaitaffy

fear: She nearly got corrupted by Jormag which was a terrifying experience looking back. Anything to do with evil forces wanting to corrupt and use her as a tool for the wrong reasons. She knows she's powerful. Even without juiced up Aurene powers. Even without the echoes. She's someone you want on your side. And people will try to manipulate her to fight for them.

ice cube shape: Giant icecubes for ice sculptures. She’s not good at it, but loves watching artisans work on them.

method of long-distance travel: Airship. She doesn’t get to travel on them often, and it usually ends in disaster when it does. But she has taken a few that didn’t end in chaos. It’s quite calm really.

piece of stationery: Good paper. She writes a lot of letters to her family, and finding good quality paper that will survive the journey makes her happy.

three emojis: 🐉 ⚔️ 🌙

celestial body: The moon. Means she got through another day.

---

Tagging @margonite-seer @konig-varorson @crim-o-lin and @neverloseguy to do this for one of your blorbos. muah <3 And as always, anyone else that wants to do it :)

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #aoife 2

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rag-gw2 · 1 year

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Should prob make a pinned post how huh

Anyways, hello! I am Grif (though Red also works fine :3), I use She/They pronouns, I am over 18, and I really like making Sylvari lmaooooo

Anyways, characters below sorted by race (also under a readmore lol):

Asura: Fortiissia (Engineer, Scrapper) Genobiologist Trozz (Thief, eventual Daredevil) Virologist Praxx (Engineer, dunno what I’ll do with him) Unnamed Asura 1 (Guardian, Dragonhunter) Unnamed Asura 2 (Mesmer, Chronomancer)

Human: Gordana Freeman (Ranger, bounces between specs when needed) Polaris Pinewood (Elementalist, Weaver) Khada Jhin (Thief, Deadeye/Daredevil) Shiro Revived (Revenant, Vindicator) Laria Marshalli (Necromancer, eventual Harbinger) Sukaina Shafi (Revenant, eventual Herald) Lunafreya Nox Fleuret (Guardian, Firebrand) Ulrich Durheim (Ranger, eventual Soulbeast) Eventual Margonite (It’s A Mystery) Kiyomi Yasuda (Elementalist, Catalyst) Taaj (Revenant, eventual Renegade) Turi Waveheart (It’s a Mystery)

Norn: Lillianja Witboon (Revenant, Renegade) Lisbet Ravenwing (Mesmer, Mirage) Tryggvi Frostshout (Ranger, Untamed)

Charr: Nia Steelveins (Necromancer, Scourge) Veebus Scorchblade (Engineer, eventual Holosmith)

Sylvari: Morriganiais (Warrior, Berserker) Cinnéididh (Thief, eventual Specter) Ceinwenrhian (Necromancer, Reaper) Firstborn Treehorn (Necromancer, Reaper) Rónait (Warrior, eventual Bladesworn) Meurigian (Mesmer, bounces between specs when needed) Fínneachta (Guardian, eventual Willbender) Babby Canach (Warrior, really just a cosplay toon lmao) Cúachnait (Elementalist, eventual Tempest) Ravus Nox Fleuret (Elementalist, eventual Weaver) Muadhán (Engineer, eventual Mechanist) Unnamed Sylvari 1 (Warrior, Spellbreaker) Unnamed Sylvari 2 (???) aaand GW1 peeps incase anyone sees this lol: Laria Marshalli (Necro/Mesmer) Noritada Nakajima (Assassin/Ranger) Sukaina Shafi (Dervish/Warrior) Saafiyya Saladin (Monk/Paragon) Kiyomi Yasuda (Ele/Ritualist) Ayda Nazmi (Paragon/Warrior) Leandra Markos (Mesmer/Necro) Analiese Durheim (Ritualist/Necro) Unnamed Warrior (/Mesmer?) Unnamed Ranger (/Dervish?)

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konig-varorson · 1 year

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Lost Chinese Lore: Abaddon, more blue than Dwayna's blue posterior

Preface

Months ago, I began a project to dig through web.archive.org's archives of the various guild wars 1 websites' many language versions. Hoping mostly to recover trailers that were mostly lost to time (and quite a trove I found), I also found some lore articles that were different from our western versions.

Back in the late 2000s, the Guild Wars 1 community knew well that Asian communities got different lore, most infamous was lore on Abaddon from Nightfall, with fan translations found here and here for two different such articles. I found some articles on the Six Gods, though sadly the ones for Grenth, Balthazar, and Melandru were not saved by web.archive.org.

The previous post was about Lyssa, and this time I present you with Abaddon's. It's slightly different than the two translated articles above, and is pretty clearly containing non-canon lore (Bloodstone origins, for one) but it paints an interesting picture and more or less lines up with everything in those two and other Abaddon lore besides those small pieces. Curiously, this post on Abaddon is actually 50/50 between Abaddon and Kormir, and it gives a slightly clearer view of how Kormir was viewed by Elonians before the events of Nightfall.

Disclaimer: While there is overlap with canon lore, there is no guarantee this is all canon as well. China is known to have had alterations to the story to account for regulations in that nation, so it is unclear how much of this is expanded canon or simply reworked for China and thus non-canon.

For those who would like to see the original text and do their own translation: https://web.archive.org/web/20070427170243/http://gw.the9.com/news/main/58973.shtml

(obligatory title joke explanation)

Translated Text

The Chief God of Water and Wisdom - the Evil God Abaddon

About Abaddon

Before his fall, Abaddon was the chief god of water and wisdom in the world. Legend has it that he was a handsome deity when he still had an honest heart. His eyes were as blue and deep as the ocean, and his mind as vast as the sea horizon. His skin was also blue, and there were a pair of blue wings behind him, making him not only a god, but also a prince. More importantly, he is the wisest among the Six Gods, therefore whenever the Six Gods gather in one place to discuss issues, Abaddon's opinion was always the most valued.

Then, after the fall, Abaddon completely changed his original image – he lost his elegant blue skin, lost his deep sea blue eyes, which was replaced by a terrifying black shadow. Even his wings have changed, no longer lustrous and bright, but terrifying like sickles. Today's Abaddon has become hideous, as his heart is occupied by evil thoughts.

Abaddon's fall did not happen overnight, but over a long period of time. For tens of thousands of years before the fall, Abaddon has been the bridge between the gods and the mortal world. He radiated wisdom and bestowed the gift of magic on those who have the ability to think and have potential. However, Abaddon was too generous, and too many races were favored by the god and rose rapidly. These races began to simply believe in Abaddon as the one god, ignoring the existence of the other Five True Gods. The other gods, who were ignored or rudely treated, were worried about their situation, and angry with Abaddon's behavior and the mortals’ sacrilege. Therefore, they decided to join forces to "solve" the problem by dividing Abaddon's magical power into four parts with the "Bloodstone", which is today's four school – aggression, destruction, denial, preservation – and thereby weaken the power of civilized races. Abaddon grew dissatisfied with the other True Gods’ actions, and he protested to his brothers and sisters, but they did not take him seriously. This made Abaddon angry, and his anger became the source of his downfall. The hatred in his heart blinded him and made him lose his mind. Abaddon summoned his most loyal worshipers, the Margonites, and set off a "revolution" against the other True Gods, and a war in the realm of the gods began.

Abaddon is undoubtedly the most powerful of the gods, so the war began in Abaddon's favor. However, after the other gods joined forces, they were an unprecedented power and Abaddon was finally defeated. The Five True Gods couldn't truly destroy their kind, so they imprisoned Abaddon and dealt a devastating blow to his followers, the Margonites. In this regard, Abaddon's strength fell further than ever before.

However, Abaddon did not give up. He is hiding in the Realm of Torment, accumulating and recovering his power, while conspiring to subvert the whole world. Today's Abaddon has become the god of plague and pain, he has become the representative and leader of evil forces and is preparing to bring disaster into this world.

Abaddon's Followers

Abaddon's most loyal worshipers are undoubtedly the Margonites. “Margonite” is a collective name for a group of people that have little connection between them in terms of ethnic origin. Precisely because they were all taught by Abaddon, they became his followers. In addition to the world we know, there are other dimensions of existence – realms we don't know, haven't seen, haven't explored. Civilized humans know that after their death, their souls continue to rise and fall in the realm of the afterlife, the Mists. Some ghosts linger in the Mist, while others find their way back to the realm of the living...but there are other creatures watching over the ghosts and waiting to drain the energy of these countless souls.

But after being attacked by the Five True Gods, they lost everything: most of the Margonites were killed, and the few who survived could only be imprisoned in the Realm of Torment with their god Abaddon, suffering harsh torture. However, the severe punishment did not make the Margonites repent, instead it strengthened their loyalty to Abaddon, and grew an extreme hatred for the world led by the Five True Gods. They swore a blood oath to Abaddon, who had fallen to an evil god, and determined to use the power of their lives to take revenge on the world that had abandoned them. Today's Margonites are following Abaddon to fight back against the world of Guild Wars. Whether it is Tyria, Cantha, or Elona, their sinful tentacles have already appeared.

Abaddon's Replacement

Abaddon left the position of god, leaving a vacancy in the Six True Gods. In the end, Spearmarshal Kormir, the female leader of the Order of the Sunspears, became the new True God. Of course, the promotion from a mortal to a god will never be that simple. Kormir experienced hardships and great challenges to finally become a god, and she is also the only example of a mortal who has become a god. Years after Abaddon's fall, a new goddess of wisdom has emerged.

About Kormir

As the commander of the Order of the Sunspear, Kormir is a legend, and her leadership of the Sunspears is irreplaceable. Regardless of her personal achievements, she has put a lot of effort into the training of new members. Kormir has successfully trained the most Sunspear members in history. She is experienced, educated, courageous and skilled, and a leader who is deep, capable, and inspiring for soldiers. Her contribution went beyond the leadership of the Order of the Sunspears — she became a role model for all Holy Words.

She is very proud of her achievements, and every victory is a guarantee that her legendary deeds will continue. Many believed that the Sunspears would have disintegrated without her leadership, but Kormir wouldn't be lost in such praise. Whenever she was praised like this, she instead worked harder to train the new generation of Elona heroes.

In the final decisive battle, Kormir and her companions successfully defeated Abaddon, but in the process of his collapse, a god’s accumulated tens of millions of years of knowledge and power began to flow rapidly, ready to explode and destroy everything in the Realm of Torment... At this moment, Kormir suddenly realized what the "talent" the gods had bestowed upon her in the ancient temple, she ignored the advice of the heroes, and resolutely rushed to the source of Abaddon's collapsing power... In this way, Kormir replaced Abaddon and became the new sixth True God - Kormir, the goddess of secrets and knowledge.

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