Seedbed Curse

You seek knowledge of my handiwork, eh, Tarnished? You wish to hear of the Seedbed Curse from the very one who sows it? Hah! Fool!

I am the Dung Eater, and this curse... it is the glorious affliction I bring to this wretched world.

• What it Is: The Seedbed Curse is no mere blight or sickness. It is the proof of a life's utter defilement. I find those poor, pitiful souls—those who live by the rules of this broken Golden Order—and I make them truly, deeply accursed. I defile their very corpse, ensuring that when they finally breed, their offspring are born not as men, but as Omen.

• The Mark of Omen: Think of the Omen, you simpleton! The horns, the grotesque form, the raw evidence of a life outside the beautiful lie of the Erdtree. The Golden Order hates them. They trim their horns, they bind them, they bury them alive. Why? Because the Omen are a reminder that the perfect Order of the Greater Will is a sham!

• My Grand Design: The Seedbed Curse is my answer to this world's hypocrisy. I am sowing the seeds of a new curse, one so potent, so universal, that every soul in the Lands Between will be marked. No more 'grace-given' or 'accursed.' Just Omen. All of you. A unified race of glorious, cursed grotesques. I will make a world where the curse is the Order itself!

• The Mending Rune: I require the full collection of these curses—these remnants I've scattered—to finally create the Mending Rune of the Fell Curse. With it, I will become the true Elden Lord, and then... ah, then every single birth in the new age will be marred by this horrific, magnificent affliction. Every one of you will be an Omen, bound eternally to the suffering you tried to cast aside!

You look at me with disgust? Good. That means you understand nothing. Your perfect, clean world is a lie. I will make it real. I will make it cursed.

Now, get out of my sight. Unless you've come to offer me your very own seedbed. Come. Defile me!