What awaits us after the cold embrace of death? Scholars have been arguing about this for ages, a mystery that has enticed people’s curiosity since before the Fall. The idea of our existence ending completely brings forth all sorts of complex emotions, but the Legion of the Fallen always had a different approach to the matter. For them, Death is just a different stage of existence, not the end. Is keeping the dead with us denying their eternal peace, breaking the wheel of reincarnation, or simply giving purpose to what would be a meaningless void? There is not a singular, simple answer to this question, however, what is truly palpable is how the Anush-Vah is capable of wielding the breath of life, or at least what is left of it. If anyone in Selejia still believes that the power of creation is only destined for the Everlasting, they’ve surely never seen what the Anush-Vah and its disciples are capable of.

Yarin Chronicler’s “Magic of Agnar”, Chapter 2

It’s common to hear awful and disgusting rumors about the necromancy of Belyos. I’ve always wished to visit the nation by myself and see with my own eyes the truths and the lies. Fortunately, this humble writer was invited by the spirit walkers of the Anush-Vah to visit and learn more about their ways. Obviously, I eagerly accepted the invitation.

The cold atmosphere of Belyos is in tune with most of its inhabitants. Even though there were certainly living people here to welcome me, and some were kind enough to shed some light on the mysteries of the Anush-Vah, the amount of dead roaming the streets is astonishing. It has been explained to me that the majority of the beings here are, in fact, corpses brought back to serve. This practice is most frequently called necromancy throughout Selejia, however, the Belyosians call it by another name: Anushamatra. Whichever the name, the practice is essential for the survival of the nation, as the infrastructure would crumble without the labor of the dead. The reanimated corpses sustain Belyos’ economy, as cheap tools employed for any sort of manual labor. Building houses, carrying cargo, mining, fighting… And make no mistake, the armies of the dead are a force to be feared by anyone with a shred of sense. But no matter how dangerous these undead are, they are still subservient to the living aristocracy. The dead lack the impetus and the will of the living, being only a shell of their former selves, however, the skills perfected throughout a mortal life can be imprinted in that shell. While some maintain vestiges of their skills, others hold memories and knowledge from their lives. If their abilities are still intertwined with their flesh and bones, leaving their remains to rot is a waste of precious resources. Many other groups in Selejia might not agree with this philosophy, but they cannot deny its effectiveness.

Surely, there are greater examples of the utility of the dead for Belyos beyond the manual work easily spotted in the streets. One of these representations, and may I say, one of the greatest buildings I had the honor to visit, is the Epitath. A trove of enlightenment for curious minds, scholars, historians, and honestly, anyone with a good taste for knowledge. This humble writer had the pleasure of visiting the place, a library like no other I’ve ever seen. It was a guided and supervised visit, of course, but enjoyable and very enlightening nonetheless. Instead of piles of books and scrolls gathering dust, I found myself among thousands of preserved heads. Some seemed to have left their bodies just the day before, while others could possibly have been around since the first days of Ptan-Ravalum’s reign. I was fortunate enough to watch one of the disciples wield the Anushamatra towards one of the heads. The knowledge that was engraved in that flesh came pouring out of its mouth, like a dark cloud. No reading was necessary in this library, just a careful ear and patience to gather all the information the dead were willing to give. It’s impossible not to consider the benefits of keeping knowledge such as this. So much information in Selejia had been lost to death, however, for the disciples of the Anush-Vah, nothing is truly gone.

As impressive as it might be, my curious instincts were also taken away by an important inquiry: how, exactly, did this knowledge stay in those rusted bones, if the mind was already devoured by vermin? The answer was a concept I already knew by name, but people outside Belyos were hardly familiarized with: the Soulbreath. It’s hard to grasp such a complex idea, but in summary, consider a Soulbreath to be what remains when any of us meets death. It is the purest essence of the being that remains on this side once the soul crosses the doors of death. With every breath, the living give of themselves to the world and, in doing so, leave an impression of themselves on it. With our last breath, when the body is vacated of the soul, that impression can be called upon to inhabit the corpse once again. The power of wielding this essence IS the Anushamatra, which allows the necromancers to defy the boundaries between life and death. It can either bring lost knowledge back, as I witnessed in the Epitath, or it might be forced into a living being. The incompatibility between life and the Soulbreath can cause irreversible damage to the victim. It’s not uncommon for soldiers, once faced by a necromancer, to feel the skin of their face fall off and part of their bodies necrotizing. One might be healed from it if there was just a small amount of Soulbreath forced into their flesh or even their mind, however, in many cases, the necroses can’t be restored. 

During my time in Belyos, I watched from my quarters while a company of dwarves came to trade with the priests. My inquiries didn’t lead me to any specific answers as to why the priests of the Anush-Vah would be so interested in some crystals. I suspect they might be related to the Anushamatra’s source of power. More investigation is needed to prove this assumption, but if confirmed it would explain why the Legion has not expanded beyond the borders of Belyos.

The common belief is that the magic of the Anush-Vah came from Ptan-Ravalum, the queen-priestess who stole the power of creation from the Everlasting, the Anushamatra itself. What was an act of revenge and a way to save her people, paved the way for a whole new belief and arcane basis never seen in Selejia before. Ptan-Ravalum gave to her people a mandate to “free the world from the Chains of Death”, and although they have sent messengers out into the world such as the one that contacted me, they have done little in the way of “freeing” the dead beyond their borders. Is there perhaps a limiting factor?

This humble writer was also invited to attend one of the many ceremonies performed by the Disciples of Anush-Vah. Anywhere else I would have called them priests, but they were quick to correct my mistake when I uttered the word, seemingly taking offense at it. During the ritual, they repeatedly uttered words of power with ironl-like determination in their voices. It sounded like a prayer to my ears, however something seemed off and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it at first. It sounded very similar to the many chants I witnessed among the members of the Order of the Shattered Throne, however, the disciples again corrected my assumptions. According to them, the ceremony wasn’t a prayer to “false gods”, a statement that would be seen as blasphemy not only in New Osterath but in much of the continent as well. Anush-Vah was a philosophy to the Belyosians, not a religion like people in other places of Selejia would like to assume. Instead of pleading for mercy to the Everlasting, in these ceremonies, the disciples uttered sentences in sequence, affirmations of what they desired to achieve as if it was already theirs. Just like Ptan-Ravalum before them, the Belyosians saw no reason to beg for crumbles from higher entities, all their victories would come from their own actions and determination.

I could mostly see now the big picture of how magic guides Belyos, but I still did not completely understand the Anush-Vah. For that, this humble writer made contact with a group many people would get shivers by only hearing the name: the Spirit Walkers, the leaders of the Anush-Vah. Unlike the corpses, brought back to their feet to keep fulfilling their purpose, the Spirit Walkers take a different route in their existence. In order to be able to walk a path among the living and the dead, some courageous and devoted people embrace the power of relics called Whispers. There are only thirteen of them in the whole continent, so this is the maximum number of existing Spirit Walkers there can be. They are deeply melded with the Whispers and their appearance changes drastically. Covered by black robes, parts of their bodies phase out of existence every now and then, with only some lumps of flesh and bones remaining from what was once a living being. Truth be told, it is a terrifying sight. They are both respected and feared, for Anushamatra is imbued in their new bodies, improving their necromancy skills considerably. Among their most useful abilities, Spirit Walkers are capable of healing the undead from injuries acquired in battle and can also slow down the deterioration of the knowledge they still hold. They did not say much during my brief visit, trusting their visage to convey the message.

I believe that, even though it was an enlightening visit to Belyos, I’ve barely scratched the whole complexity of the Anush-Vah as a whole. There is still much to be learned from both the living and the dead, however my next destination awaits. Hopefully, it will be less cold up in Paxos.

Yarin Chronicler