No common road leads to the fortress-monastery of the Obsidian Hand. The chosen must first survive their Threshold Trial: a hidden passage known only through whispered instructions that shift with each generation. To reach the citadel, initiates cross storms of biting snow, descend into frozen caverns, and step through illusions designed to strip away fear. The final gate is the Mirror of Predation — a seamless wall of obsidian that only opens when the initiate accepts, deep within, that they would rather be predator than prey.
When the wall parts, the initiate steps into Thaloras Fortress, a world apart from the mortal realm: vast obsidian towers rimmed in glacial light, training yards burning with arcane flames, and a library built of ice-crystal shelves, where every book hums faintly with bound knowledge.
The Five Shadows (High Regents)
The descendants (by blood or chosen inheritance) of the five original wizard-kings.
Rule as a council, cloaked in masks of black iron, their true identities hidden even from most within the Hand.
Each Shadow governs one pillar of the order: War, Knowledge, Secrecy, Inquisition, and Inheritance.
Obsidian Blades (Masters)
Veteran operatives, each a living legend of conquest, sorcery, or assassination.
They lead squads of initiates, shape doctrines, and decide which threats warrant intervention.
Each Blade wields a unique Relic Sigil — a weapon, staff, or artifact bound to their essence.
The Veiled (Operatives)
Graduates of the Hand’s trials. They move among mortal kingdoms as mercenaries, healers, or aristocrats while secretly executing the Hand’s directives.
Known for their anonymity — faces often obscured by masks, veils, or glamours.
Among them, rivalries and duels are common; only the most cunning survive long.
Ashborn (Initiates)
Children and prodigies taken from across Nova Prime, often from broken homes, orphanages, or battlefields.
Called “Ashborn” because their old lives are symbolically burned away during initiation.
Trained in squads, each child expected to master steel, spell, and shadow in unison. Failure means quiet disappearance into the ice.
The Silent (Servants & Watchers)
Failed initiates, criminals given a second life, or volunteers who swore eternal service.
Tongues ritually scarred to enforce silence, they serve as attendants, guards, and test subjects.
Though stripped of voice, their eyes are everywhere; disobedient initiates often vanish after catching a Silent’s stare.
The Hand does not “teach”; it tempers.
The Forge of Flesh: Combat training that forces initiates to endure bitter cold, wield weighted blades, and spar until exhaustion. Many leave scarred, but those scars are marks of survival.
The Crucible of Mind: Riddles, illusions, and arcane studies. Students must memorize grimoires etched into crystal walls, then duel with conjured phantoms who exploit their fears.
The Veilwalk: Stealth trials across frozen cities where watchers and predators stalk them. Only those who vanish and reappear unseen succeed.
The Rite of Binding: At adolescence, initiates attempt their first true spell — a ritual that binds their soul to a personal “Predator Sigil,” a manifestation of their willpower. Some create blades of flame, others beasts of shadow, others invisible eyes that whisper secrets. Those who fail the rite are consumed.
Before becoming Veiled, an Ashborn must undergo the Ashen Gate, a ceremony as feared as it is revered.
Each initiate is led blindfolded into the frozen catacombs beneath the Fortress.
There they confront their own Echo — a spectral double conjured from their deepest weaknesses.
To pass, they must slay their Echo without hesitation. To hesitate is to be devoured by it.
Survivors emerge marked with an Obsidian Brand upon their wrist — a shard of black crystal fused into their flesh, glowing faintly when near other members.
The Black Hawk: The primary sigil of the order, representing humanity’s will to remain a predator above the clouds, sharp-eyed and unyielding.
Obsidian Masks: Worn by all during formal rituals. Each mask is faceless and smooth, a reminder that personal identity is nothing beside survival of the species.
The Shattered Crown: A relic displayed in the Fortress’ central hall — forged from fragments of the five wizard-kings’ crowns, broken to signify their sacrifice of thrones for humanity’s survival.
The Fortress is alive with its own laws:
The Hall of Veins — walls pulsing faintly with obsidian lines of magic, containing the last scraps of high wizardry.
The Ebon Library — tomes bound in flesh, inked in blood, knowledge forbidden to the outside world.
The Furnace Yards — forges fueled by captured dragon flame, where weapons are tempered in both steel and spell.
The Garden of Predators — a vast cavern where initiates are locked with beasts, mutations, or illusions, forced to prove they can hunt or die hunted.
The Obsidian Hand is not a school. It is not a kingdom. It is an engine of survival, hidden from history, shaping humanity in silence. To enter their world is to leave the old one behind forever.
Every initiate, operative, and master lives by three binding tenets carved into the obsidian walls of Thaloras Fortress:
Strength Above Mercy – Weakness is a disease. Mercy is indulgence. Only those strong enough to hunt, endure, and strike may shape the future.
Secrets Above Kings – No crown, no kingdom, no family stands above the Hand. Loyalty is to humanity’s survival, not to blood or flag.
Survival Above All – All sins may be forgiven if they serve the Hand’s goal: ensuring humans remain predators, never prey.
Breaking the creed is death. Not trial. Not banishment. Death.
At dawn, a deep chime echoes across the frozen halls — the Bell of Frost. All initiates rise instantly; hesitation earns lashes from the Silent. Each Ashborn kneels before their Predator Sigil (the relic of will forged during training) and speaks the daily vow:
"I am predator. I am Hand. My breath is survival, my death is forfeit, my life belongs to the hunt."
Only then may they eat — a sparse meal of raw fish, blood broth, or charred beast-meat meant to harden stomachs and bodies.
From dawn until dusk, the Fortress is a crucible:
First Hour: The Forge of Flesh
Barehanded combat, sparring with steel, endurance drills in the snow. Ashborn fight until bones break, then learn to fight broken.
Second Hour: The Crucible of Mind
Meditation under illusions, riddles in runes, silent contests of will against conjured predators. Wizards instruct them in the dying art of spellcraft, but with no softness: a failed incantation might burn flesh or blind an eye.
Third Hour: The Veilwalk
Stealth trials in the shadowed halls. Initiates stalk each other, while the Silent lurk to cull the careless. To be “caught” means punishment — often a week of starvation or a night in the Garden of Predators.
Fourth Hour: The Blooding
Each day ends with combat against captured beasts or other initiates. The weak are culled. The strong advance.
When the obsidian torches burn blue, silence falls across the halls. In this time, initiates study: grimoires, anatomical charts, poisons, or relics. Whispering is forbidden. The fortress itself seems to listen, and the Silent patrol endlessly.
Once per week, on the darkest night, failed initiates or disloyal operatives are executed publicly in the central courtyard. Their bodies are cast into the Pit of Silence — a frozen abyss said to lead to the tomb of Krakos. The Ashborn watch, reminded of the cost of failure.
Ashborn (Initiates): Sleep in communal stone barracks, with only a fur cloak and a dagger to their name. They are constantly monitored by the Silent.
The Veiled (Operatives): When at the Fortress, they train Ashborn, study new tactics, or prepare for missions. They live in spartan quarters, decorated only with trophies of hunts.
Obsidian Blades (Masters): Reside in the Crown Tower, a five-sided spire at the heart of the fortress. They are rarely seen but their presence radiates terror and reverence.
The Silent: Roam freely, unseen until needed. Their dormitories are unknown — some say they sleep standing, like statues in shadowed halls.
Mask Rituals: All members wear smooth obsidian masks during ceremonies. An initiate’s first mask is blank. Over time, cracks form naturally in the obsidian as they fight and bleed; these scars of the mask are sacred, never repaired.
The Predator Feast: When an initiate completes a major trial, they eat the heart of their defeated beast (or rival). Refusing is dishonor.
The Blood Oath: Before leaving the Fortress on their first mission, each member cuts their palm over the Shattered Crown. Their blood seals their vow: death before betrayal.
Life in the Fortress is brutal, but it is also breathtaking. Imagine:
Training yards lit by dragonfire lanterns.
Obsidian spires catching the auroras.
Frozen courtyards where silence is law.
Children learning to carve spells into ice, sparks scattering against the eternal frost.
For those inside, Thaloras is not a prison. It is another world — one of fear, glory, and destiny.