Ravening
CONTENT WARNINGS: This article will contain references to subjects involving body horror, a bit of mutilation, cannibalism, discussions pertaining to suicide, and general suffering. I do not get overly descriptive however the themes are present. Reader discretion is advised.
"Be it a curse of the mind, body, or perhaps both and more, we knows not. However a curse it most certainly is, one brought forth into our realm, into reality by the Void. Born of the fear of desperation beyond comprehension combined with the failure of those whom came before us, and the tainting of creation all around us. A curse laid upon those unlucky few whom find themselves in a moment of time and in a place where they feel so desperate that they must do something unthinkable, something so vile, so horrifying and yet in its own way so pitiful and tragic. A curse, an affliction of manna, of psyche and of body and one with no cure but the cure of a quick and merciful end. Such is the only known way to deal with one afflicted with Ravening. Be it Ghul, Grist or a more cunning and powerful Gazeri, this be the only way to help them, if truly there is anything left of the person there once was."
Guidance well documented by a handful of Exemplari throughout history.
"Be it a curse of the mind, body, or perhaps both and more, we knows not. However a curse it most certainly is, one brought forth into our realm, into reality by the Void. Born of the fear of desperation beyond comprehension combined with the failure of those whom came before us, and the tainting of creation all around us. A curse laid upon those unlucky few whom find themselves in a moment of time and in a place where they feel so desperate that they must do something unthinkable, something so vile, so horrifying and yet in its own way so pitiful and tragic. A curse, an affliction of manna, of psyche and of body and one with no cure but the cure of a quick and merciful end. Such is the only known way to deal with one afflicted with Ravening. Be it Ghul, Grist or a more cunning and powerful Gazeri, this be the only way to help them, if truly there is anything left of the person there once was."
Guidance well documented by a handful of Exemplari throughout history.
Transmission & Vectors
Ravening is one of a family of afflictions known as 'curse-bound'. Sixteen of them to be precise, each tied to one of the Void Gods and their sphere of influence. The reason these afflictions are known as 'curse-bound' is because that is exactly what they are, afflictions cursed upon the realm of Valerick from the time of the Fall of the Tanes and the Faei, the time of the Sundering. It is acquired, to be quite blunt, only by those in truly horrible circumstances. Individuals of the noted ancestries whom find themselves having to consider doing, and then doing, the unthinkable.
Cannibalism. To consume the flesh of a fellow humanoid of the Ascended's Light. Those whom find themselves in such dire straits where the choice is that or starvation are the ones whom, in some cases, may be afflicted by this Curse-bound illness. Yet curiously there are documented cases where one was not so afflicted. They suffered great trauma and mental difficulties for the rest of their lives, naturally, as one would expect any who had to survive some sort of situation where that was your only option to continue staying in the world of the living. Yet in spite of those scars, they did not fall to this affliction. It would seem that there is a mental component, almost hallucinatory, attacking one's own identity and ego which can be resisted, based upon testimonials of those few whom have gone through something so traumatic and not been afflicted. Below is one such testimonial from an elven patient, male, one hundred and eighty-seven years old at the time of these notes being taken. He is specifically of Skye Elf descent.;
We shall continue referring to Mister Ral'asheen's case in this document, as he provides us with the most contextual information about this unique affliction.
Cannibalism. To consume the flesh of a fellow humanoid of the Ascended's Light. Those whom find themselves in such dire straits where the choice is that or starvation are the ones whom, in some cases, may be afflicted by this Curse-bound illness. Yet curiously there are documented cases where one was not so afflicted. They suffered great trauma and mental difficulties for the rest of their lives, naturally, as one would expect any who had to survive some sort of situation where that was your only option to continue staying in the world of the living. Yet in spite of those scars, they did not fall to this affliction. It would seem that there is a mental component, almost hallucinatory, attacking one's own identity and ego which can be resisted, based upon testimonials of those few whom have gone through something so traumatic and not been afflicted. Below is one such testimonial from an elven patient, male, one hundred and eighty-seven years old at the time of these notes being taken. He is specifically of Skye Elf descent.;
We'd lost our rudder, and the main-mast came down with the typhoon. Our ship was a Susman Clipper, see, she didn't have oars. So we was dead in the water, and with no way to communicate, for our ship magister had gotten swept overboard, taken out trying to salvage the mainmast. I swears twas as if the storm were summoned by Captain Jeremiah as punishment or by something far darker as entertainment. Everything that could go wrong did. We lost count of the days, our crippled vessel drifting aimlessly. We tried fishing, we tried tearing parts of the ship apart for tools. Our hold flooded ye see, stores ruined by the water. We nary capsized and weren't leaking but enough got in ta ruin the food stuffs.
Day six, maybe more, the first death came. We had little fresh water, but enough and so thirst wasn't the killer. Desperation for food was. Twas the cabin boy, tired of makeshift nets and failed fishing lines, and near misses. Thought he saw a swordfish in the water off our starboard, and before any could stop him, he'd tied off and with a spear from the hold, one of a cargo of arms we was shipping, he dived overboard.
It wasn't no swordfish. It was a white shark, the boy's hunger must have scrambled his vision for him to confuse the two. As soon as he splashed into the water he started scrambling calling for us to pull him up. But naturally all that panicking and splashing did was seal his fate. Two days later we found the first mate dead, had hung himself, we nary know why. Despair I'd guess. At this point our bellies were talking to our spines and the conversations were becoming intimate. Yet still we dared not consider how far we'd go. We buried him at sea.
It were almost a week before the next fell, our cook, of all ironies. The fat bastard in a state of hunger induced delirium, slipped on the stairwell and the way he landed was just right, broke his neck. No suffering, not a lick of pain. There we were , the last twelve of us, staring down at him. I don't remember who's idea it was. But what I do remember is how good that first bite, once we'd cooked flanks and ribs, tasted. How good it felt. I also remember the sudden visions, the whisper tickling the back of me mind. I was trying to not enjoy it, yet that little voice and the images I saw....promises, lies I care not. Weren't natural, let me tell you. I knew it weren't natural and yet....I watched me fellows. I saw it on their faces. The rest of 'em changed in that moment. The joy in their eyes weren't no joy of desperate men. It was glee, nary relief.....they were savoring it, nary simply choking it down outta necessity. It were foul, truly foul, but nothing compared to the horrors to come. I wanted to stop, but something warned me not to, that I had to at least keep me strength up. For somehow, instinctively I knew in that cursed meal.....the situation I was in had gotten drastically worse. But even I'd not have predicted how or what was to come."
Herique Ral'asheen, retired boathand and mariner.
Day six, maybe more, the first death came. We had little fresh water, but enough and so thirst wasn't the killer. Desperation for food was. Twas the cabin boy, tired of makeshift nets and failed fishing lines, and near misses. Thought he saw a swordfish in the water off our starboard, and before any could stop him, he'd tied off and with a spear from the hold, one of a cargo of arms we was shipping, he dived overboard.
It wasn't no swordfish. It was a white shark, the boy's hunger must have scrambled his vision for him to confuse the two. As soon as he splashed into the water he started scrambling calling for us to pull him up. But naturally all that panicking and splashing did was seal his fate. Two days later we found the first mate dead, had hung himself, we nary know why. Despair I'd guess. At this point our bellies were talking to our spines and the conversations were becoming intimate. Yet still we dared not consider how far we'd go. We buried him at sea.
It were almost a week before the next fell, our cook, of all ironies. The fat bastard in a state of hunger induced delirium, slipped on the stairwell and the way he landed was just right, broke his neck. No suffering, not a lick of pain. There we were , the last twelve of us, staring down at him. I don't remember who's idea it was. But what I do remember is how good that first bite, once we'd cooked flanks and ribs, tasted. How good it felt. I also remember the sudden visions, the whisper tickling the back of me mind. I was trying to not enjoy it, yet that little voice and the images I saw....promises, lies I care not. Weren't natural, let me tell you. I knew it weren't natural and yet....I watched me fellows. I saw it on their faces. The rest of 'em changed in that moment. The joy in their eyes weren't no joy of desperate men. It was glee, nary relief.....they were savoring it, nary simply choking it down outta necessity. It were foul, truly foul, but nothing compared to the horrors to come. I wanted to stop, but something warned me not to, that I had to at least keep me strength up. For somehow, instinctively I knew in that cursed meal.....the situation I was in had gotten drastically worse. But even I'd not have predicted how or what was to come."
Herique Ral'asheen, retired boathand and mariner.
We shall continue referring to Mister Ral'asheen's case in this document, as he provides us with the most contextual information about this unique affliction.
Causes
As noted the cause seems to be the act of cannibalism.
Symptoms
To start outlining the symptoms, we will turn once again to our case study, master Ral'asheen, and his answer when the topic of what exactly he heard, felt and saw became something he was more willing to discuss;
As noted by this initial testimony, it would seem Ravening, far from being merely a physical ailment and mutagenic affliction, in fact starts as a forceful bargain or whisper, the desperation driving the victims to this heinous act, that of cannibalism, allowing a small opening to form around them in the Aether, a tear in the protection of the Dreamweave perhap, not large enough to allow any entity of the Void within, but just enough to allow its influence to be heard and exerted and felt upon the victim. Enough that the tempting whispers and dark lies can be felt and seen, and as noted in the continuation of Mister Ral'asheen's testimony, can even be heard and, perhaps bargained with in one's subconsciousness.
This does present a unique understanding that these curse-bound afflictions are less diseases or infections and perhaps more....akin to pacts and bargains, but such things made not in good faith, however instead made in duress. Which naturally should raise some questions as to if medical treatment or curatives would be the solution in the first place, or if it is simply a question of the individual afflicted finding the will and means to resist and break that connection themselves.
It is here the first signs of the physiological changes are described by Mister Ral'asheen. Palloring, the process that this is referred to as, starts in the eyes. The irises lose all color, becoming stone grey empty things, like dull iron, with the deepest and blackest of pupils one can imagine, like staring into the Void itself some have described it as. The pupils are universal across all curse-bound afflictions, however the greying is specific to Ravening. In this as well, it is believed that even this early on the sensitivity to radiance and the sudden bright light begins and the improved vision in the dark is also acquired. This early on the physical mutations are already occuring.
This description confirms what was suspected of course. The subsection of Restless Dead of the Ghoul family, or to use their proper phenology, Ghoulira, in fact are amongst those weird fringe families within that clade which are not merely manifestations of Lobhadh building up in to much concentration or being to heavily corrupted in a region. They are not formed from Amethyst manna and they are not truly fully undead. Their traits are a strange hybrid, for so long as they eat often enough, to all sensitivites, even divine according to our church records, they can appear alive.
It is also worthy to note at this point it is clear that Mister Ral'asheen did not escape the affliction entirely unscathed. What we mean is he is finding the latter half of the timeline more clear than the first half, even though they should have struggled more as hunger and thirst took their toll. Yet instead we see the inverse is true. They are more certain of the timelines they provide the further into the depraved tale they become, suggesting that though they partook unwillingly, they benefitted, which as will be seen later, does likely mean they paid a price of some kind.
Here the description of his fellows tells us Master Ral'asheen was on a ship with six Restless Dead, they were no longer human any longer though they could perhaps act like it in some aspects. They were likely for the most parts Ghuls, the most simple and common of the family, though the debate and conniving method they were discussing does suggest Grists are more likely. It is presumed of course none of them became a Gazeri, as if that had been the case it is highly improbable that Master Ral'asheen survives to have this conversation all these years later.
This was always suspected but never confirmed. However now it is generally accepted that some whom do suffer this affliction do resist the worst of it and recover, but they do change. Their bodies change, how their bodies absorb nutrition seems to have changed, as do the way they taste it and the feelings it elicits. It leaves you cursed with a vestigal sort of hunger that whilst manageable leaves you more easily exhausted, hungry, and having trouble getting the weight back from the ordeal. Yet these are only the surface scars and as Master Ral'asheen shows us it leaves far deeper wounds. These effects are now generally accepted medical knowledge and are well known phenomena.
Ravening Study Closing notes: The symptoms of this curse-bound affliction vary based of course on the moment. This can vary wildly to becoming a ravenous monster over days and weeks, the more they eat people the faster the change comes over them. They may panic and take their own lives when they realize what is happening of course, as happened to one of Mister Ral'asheen's shipmates. Furthermore some may experience the sort of odd outcomes of Mister Ral'asheen himself. A select few may even resist entirely.
Since Valerick is meant to be a game setting and since Pathfinder 2e is my base, here is the necessary information for this affliction in that context.
Affliction/Condition Type: Supernatural Illness
Traits: Undead, Famine, Gluttony, Curse, Mutation, Void, Occult
Trigger: Engaging in the act of Cannibalism
Onset: Immediate
Save: Unique to my setting I've added saves for the other three attributes so this condition is an Ego (charisma) save of DC 24. If you wish to see how you would fare, go ahead and roll here. Basically you would be about level 5 before you should ever be interacting with this potentially so assume that and we will give you benefit of the doubt and assume expert on Ego Saves 1d20+14 . For those who don't know besides Nat 1 and 20 if you fail the save by 10 or more or succeed it by 10 or more those are critical failures and successes respectfully.
"What do you want to know. I saw exactly what you be thinking. Promises from beyond. Gulagor's gifts, the promise of sustenance, survival even in the most desperate conditions, should I simply give in and feast. Give in to my hunger and feast without remorse. Enjoy the meal, feel the flesh's warmth become your own. Whispered promises of strength, of hardiness, the guarantee of survival, and good health. The meat made me sick, as you well know it should, it ain't right, and shouldn't sit right. But they promised I'd nary have such problems again.
As noted by this initial testimony, it would seem Ravening, far from being merely a physical ailment and mutagenic affliction, in fact starts as a forceful bargain or whisper, the desperation driving the victims to this heinous act, that of cannibalism, allowing a small opening to form around them in the Aether, a tear in the protection of the Dreamweave perhap, not large enough to allow any entity of the Void within, but just enough to allow its influence to be heard and exerted and felt upon the victim. Enough that the tempting whispers and dark lies can be felt and seen, and as noted in the continuation of Mister Ral'asheen's testimony, can even be heard and, perhaps bargained with in one's subconsciousness.
This does present a unique understanding that these curse-bound afflictions are less diseases or infections and perhaps more....akin to pacts and bargains, but such things made not in good faith, however instead made in duress. Which naturally should raise some questions as to if medical treatment or curatives would be the solution in the first place, or if it is simply a question of the individual afflicted finding the will and means to resist and break that connection themselves.
Worse still they promised a greater gift. For they knew we were still weeks from rescue, so they claimed. However with the others on board.....I would not starve. It were temptation, an invitation to the mind and soul in the most desperate moments I've ever experienced, and I'm nary ashamed to say for a moment.....I considered it. I did, and though I not proud of it, I defy anyone, even a damned templar of the Sun Goddess herself to not at least consider it under those conditions. However the visions of what I would become....revolted me. I would not have that. I could not do that to these men I'd sailed with all these years."
Yet they held no such reservations?
"Now don't be saying it like that, damn it priest! You say it like they were scoundrels and the worse sort of brigands. They were mariners like meself, they were my crewmates, my brethren. However in that moment, their desperation....cost them everything. The physical changes would take time but the face, the eyes, oh the eyes, it was very clear with the glassy look in the eyes, the color gone replaced with naught but a soft grey and jet black pupil.....In that moment, all of 'em, me captain, me crew-mates, were dead. Whatever them things were and whatever they became, the men I'd known and sailed with were dead and gone. I had to keep eating, some part of me knew that. If I stopped they would know you see. So I had to fill my belly and keep up appearances."
Yet they held no such reservations?
"Now don't be saying it like that, damn it priest! You say it like they were scoundrels and the worse sort of brigands. They were mariners like meself, they were my crewmates, my brethren. However in that moment, their desperation....cost them everything. The physical changes would take time but the face, the eyes, oh the eyes, it was very clear with the glassy look in the eyes, the color gone replaced with naught but a soft grey and jet black pupil.....In that moment, all of 'em, me captain, me crew-mates, were dead. Whatever them things were and whatever they became, the men I'd known and sailed with were dead and gone. I had to keep eating, some part of me knew that. If I stopped they would know you see. So I had to fill my belly and keep up appearances."
It is here the first signs of the physiological changes are described by Mister Ral'asheen. Palloring, the process that this is referred to as, starts in the eyes. The irises lose all color, becoming stone grey empty things, like dull iron, with the deepest and blackest of pupils one can imagine, like staring into the Void itself some have described it as. The pupils are universal across all curse-bound afflictions, however the greying is specific to Ravening. In this as well, it is believed that even this early on the sensitivity to radiance and the sudden bright light begins and the improved vision in the dark is also acquired. This early on the physical mutations are already occuring.
Over the next few days you describe changes, small at first and ones that might have been able to be attributed to scurvy. Teeth weakening, some being lost, or chipped. Hair falling out. When did you realize what was actually happening?
"Twere six nights after we ate the cook. The captain had been shut in his cabin. Well that night, cutlass and pistol were heard and by the time we got down there, the other cabin hand, a lad by the name of Dakar, was dead and bleeding on the floor of the captain's quarters. Now the quarters were tossed, like there had been a scuffle and the captain claimed he had been attacked in his sleep. However the cabin was tossed right proper, and Dakar was just a boy. His body however....was wrong. Nails overgrown like the rest of us but pointed. Muscles corded, yet his frame starving. His mouth were agape when he died...and he had a mouthful of shark like tearing teeth.
However none of my crewmates seemed to notice, or mayhaps they didn't care. Not a one. Some of them were eyeing the captain, who had a gnarly bite on his left arm, missing a chunk of flesh, as if sensing weakness. Others were looking with.....hunger.....in their eyes at Dakar. So to was the captain and he ordered the lad cut, stripped to the bone and turned into a stew. Before ye asks of course I did. Twere that or be found out and likely killed by them things!"
"Twere six nights after we ate the cook. The captain had been shut in his cabin. Well that night, cutlass and pistol were heard and by the time we got down there, the other cabin hand, a lad by the name of Dakar, was dead and bleeding on the floor of the captain's quarters. Now the quarters were tossed, like there had been a scuffle and the captain claimed he had been attacked in his sleep. However the cabin was tossed right proper, and Dakar was just a boy. His body however....was wrong. Nails overgrown like the rest of us but pointed. Muscles corded, yet his frame starving. His mouth were agape when he died...and he had a mouthful of shark like tearing teeth.
However none of my crewmates seemed to notice, or mayhaps they didn't care. Not a one. Some of them were eyeing the captain, who had a gnarly bite on his left arm, missing a chunk of flesh, as if sensing weakness. Others were looking with.....hunger.....in their eyes at Dakar. So to was the captain and he ordered the lad cut, stripped to the bone and turned into a stew. Before ye asks of course I did. Twere that or be found out and likely killed by them things!"
This description confirms what was suspected of course. The subsection of Restless Dead of the Ghoul family, or to use their proper phenology, Ghoulira, in fact are amongst those weird fringe families within that clade which are not merely manifestations of Lobhadh building up in to much concentration or being to heavily corrupted in a region. They are not formed from Amethyst manna and they are not truly fully undead. Their traits are a strange hybrid, for so long as they eat often enough, to all sensitivites, even divine according to our church records, they can appear alive.
It is also worthy to note at this point it is clear that Mister Ral'asheen did not escape the affliction entirely unscathed. What we mean is he is finding the latter half of the timeline more clear than the first half, even though they should have struggled more as hunger and thirst took their toll. Yet instead we see the inverse is true. They are more certain of the timelines they provide the further into the depraved tale they become, suggesting that though they partook unwillingly, they benefitted, which as will be seen later, does likely mean they paid a price of some kind.
How did this all end, as it seems to have been one by one for the first few?"
Aye the seventeenth night after, Gulagor's unholy number that one. We'd sighted land that day and the currents were pulling us towards it. A small fishing village no chance they'd seen us just yet. Perhaps by the morning when the currents pulled us closer. However that night, like most now, I couldn't sleep and prowled the halls untrusting with pistol loaded, and a bare torch despite the risk on a ship of timber carrying such a thing. There were only six of us left at that point and it were starting to become visibly obvious I weren't like the rest. Dangerously so. But they had not made any move yet. I moved by the captain's quarters and heard voices arguing, though muffled, so I listened in. They were arguing in regards as to what to do about me. The captain, the voice of...mercy I suppose given all things, wanted to simply kill me and eat me. However the others, aware enough as to how off they looked now, pale, with pockmarked frames of skin and bone, their faces a grey pallor, wanted ta force me to be the one to hail for rescue since I looked 'normal' to draw in rescuers. Then they wanted to butcher em, take their boat or fishing vessel and do the same to the village! I overheard all of this and could hear that the rest of them were going to take charge and do this with or without the man who had been my captain. So I made a rash decision.
Aye the seventeenth night after, Gulagor's unholy number that one. We'd sighted land that day and the currents were pulling us towards it. A small fishing village no chance they'd seen us just yet. Perhaps by the morning when the currents pulled us closer. However that night, like most now, I couldn't sleep and prowled the halls untrusting with pistol loaded, and a bare torch despite the risk on a ship of timber carrying such a thing. There were only six of us left at that point and it were starting to become visibly obvious I weren't like the rest. Dangerously so. But they had not made any move yet. I moved by the captain's quarters and heard voices arguing, though muffled, so I listened in. They were arguing in regards as to what to do about me. The captain, the voice of...mercy I suppose given all things, wanted to simply kill me and eat me. However the others, aware enough as to how off they looked now, pale, with pockmarked frames of skin and bone, their faces a grey pallor, wanted ta force me to be the one to hail for rescue since I looked 'normal' to draw in rescuers. Then they wanted to butcher em, take their boat or fishing vessel and do the same to the village! I overheard all of this and could hear that the rest of them were going to take charge and do this with or without the man who had been my captain. So I made a rash decision.
Here the description of his fellows tells us Master Ral'asheen was on a ship with six Restless Dead, they were no longer human any longer though they could perhaps act like it in some aspects. They were likely for the most parts Ghuls, the most simple and common of the family, though the debate and conniving method they were discussing does suggest Grists are more likely. It is presumed of course none of them became a Gazeri, as if that had been the case it is highly improbable that Master Ral'asheen survives to have this conversation all these years later.
I rushed downstairs snagging one of the ships spare ropes and went to our munitions and oil storage, for part of our cargo had been some ghel bound for Waston. About ten barrels of the stuff, with another sixteen kegs of powder, and a few bigger barrels for the six cannons our vessel had, more as decoration than for practical use I'd never seen em shot. I doused the rope in ghel and ran the full hundred feet of it after tying it to one of the big barrels in the center. I caught me breath as long as I dared after that, with the sun coming up, praying the fishermen were early risers and praying we'd drifted close enough they'd see and hear and come looking for survivors.
Then I lit the end of the rope, ditching my torch as the flames licked the rope and caught the hallway floor ablaze. I dashed up out of the quarters, calling out no warnings and doing me best ta run softed footed as I could, and without even looking back, flung myself over the railing and into the sea. I remember the explosion, nary as big as you'd think for how much combustibles I told ye there were but it was big enough. Flames consumed the back half of the ship, me former shipmates were likely killed near instantly and the horizon being lit up by the dawn had a sudden flare of orange and billowing column of black smoke. I swam as hard as I could, in the general direction of the land we'd seen, praying to Captain Jeremiah the whole time. I don't know where I found the strength, considering when I was picked up my rescuers thought they'd rescued a skeleton still wearing skin at first until I coughed up sea water and breathed.
But nearly an hour after she burst aflame, by their counting two fisherman had made it out and saw me bobbing, adrift. They rescued me, and were considering going towards the ship for salvage. I lied to them when I came too, I'm not ashamed to admit it. I told them I was an oar slave who'd got loose and that was a Scourge Elf ship. I managed to set up a make shift fuse, I told them, and lit their smoke-powder storage aflame. The best lies have sprinkles of truth. They thankfully believed me and turned around to head for home and warn the village to be ready to deal with any such slavers whom were to wash up on shore. It likely would not have mattered, nothing in close proximity to that blast and fireball was going to survive, however it felt like a damn foolish thing and a thing of ill omen to let myself go back near that ship. Let her burn and let her sink."
Now you claim, and to be fair you do look healthy, I see no signs of the cursed upon you. However you claim though you were not afflicted you still have...scars. Changes. Things are not as they were, and its been nearly two decades. Describe for me what you mean, if you please?
"I gained some weight back clearly, however it nary matter how much I eat I cannot gain any more. I am still a good thirty pounds under what I was if I had to guess. But it more than that. I be tired all the time unless I just eaten. Like an hour after I eat I'm feeling tired. Three hours I'm exhausted and my stomach aches. Furthermore......food don't taste right."
Then I lit the end of the rope, ditching my torch as the flames licked the rope and caught the hallway floor ablaze. I dashed up out of the quarters, calling out no warnings and doing me best ta run softed footed as I could, and without even looking back, flung myself over the railing and into the sea. I remember the explosion, nary as big as you'd think for how much combustibles I told ye there were but it was big enough. Flames consumed the back half of the ship, me former shipmates were likely killed near instantly and the horizon being lit up by the dawn had a sudden flare of orange and billowing column of black smoke. I swam as hard as I could, in the general direction of the land we'd seen, praying to Captain Jeremiah the whole time. I don't know where I found the strength, considering when I was picked up my rescuers thought they'd rescued a skeleton still wearing skin at first until I coughed up sea water and breathed.
But nearly an hour after she burst aflame, by their counting two fisherman had made it out and saw me bobbing, adrift. They rescued me, and were considering going towards the ship for salvage. I lied to them when I came too, I'm not ashamed to admit it. I told them I was an oar slave who'd got loose and that was a Scourge Elf ship. I managed to set up a make shift fuse, I told them, and lit their smoke-powder storage aflame. The best lies have sprinkles of truth. They thankfully believed me and turned around to head for home and warn the village to be ready to deal with any such slavers whom were to wash up on shore. It likely would not have mattered, nothing in close proximity to that blast and fireball was going to survive, however it felt like a damn foolish thing and a thing of ill omen to let myself go back near that ship. Let her burn and let her sink."
Now you claim, and to be fair you do look healthy, I see no signs of the cursed upon you. However you claim though you were not afflicted you still have...scars. Changes. Things are not as they were, and its been nearly two decades. Describe for me what you mean, if you please?
"I gained some weight back clearly, however it nary matter how much I eat I cannot gain any more. I am still a good thirty pounds under what I was if I had to guess. But it more than that. I be tired all the time unless I just eaten. Like an hour after I eat I'm feeling tired. Three hours I'm exhausted and my stomach aches. Furthermore......food don't taste right."
This was always suspected but never confirmed. However now it is generally accepted that some whom do suffer this affliction do resist the worst of it and recover, but they do change. Their bodies change, how their bodies absorb nutrition seems to have changed, as do the way they taste it and the feelings it elicits. It leaves you cursed with a vestigal sort of hunger that whilst manageable leaves you more easily exhausted, hungry, and having trouble getting the weight back from the ordeal. Yet these are only the surface scars and as Master Ral'asheen shows us it leaves far deeper wounds. These effects are now generally accepted medical knowledge and are well known phenomena.
Care to elaborate?
"No matter if I eats something I used to despise with every fibre of my being, like brussel sprouts or mushrooms, or me favorite foods in all creation like Malika's famous lobster and claim chowder, or me own grandmother's blueberry and blackcurrant pie, it brings me no real joy. I fakes it around me grandma in law, for the poor dwarf be nearing the end of her road when I sees her once a decade at clanhome I can't bring myself to worry her. But I feel....it isn't nothing. There is a momentary twinge of joy, dulled but there. Followed by an ache. A need, a twang within the core of my being I can't explain. Its as if what I went through, even though I was never afflicted, ruined the taste of all other things. Besides that there are the dreams. They are rare, but wake me in a cold and fearful sweat once every 2-3 months. I dreams of eating.....people....and I like it. I been living this hell for two decades now Dockmaster. I can't keep doing it. Can you help me?"
"No matter if I eats something I used to despise with every fibre of my being, like brussel sprouts or mushrooms, or me favorite foods in all creation like Malika's famous lobster and claim chowder, or me own grandmother's blueberry and blackcurrant pie, it brings me no real joy. I fakes it around me grandma in law, for the poor dwarf be nearing the end of her road when I sees her once a decade at clanhome I can't bring myself to worry her. But I feel....it isn't nothing. There is a momentary twinge of joy, dulled but there. Followed by an ache. A need, a twang within the core of my being I can't explain. Its as if what I went through, even though I was never afflicted, ruined the taste of all other things. Besides that there are the dreams. They are rare, but wake me in a cold and fearful sweat once every 2-3 months. I dreams of eating.....people....and I like it. I been living this hell for two decades now Dockmaster. I can't keep doing it. Can you help me?"
Ravening Study Closing notes: The symptoms of this curse-bound affliction vary based of course on the moment. This can vary wildly to becoming a ravenous monster over days and weeks, the more they eat people the faster the change comes over them. They may panic and take their own lives when they realize what is happening of course, as happened to one of Mister Ral'asheen's shipmates. Furthermore some may experience the sort of odd outcomes of Mister Ral'asheen himself. A select few may even resist entirely.
From a TTRPG perspective
Since Valerick is meant to be a game setting and since Pathfinder 2e is my base, here is the necessary information for this affliction in that context.
Ravening
Affliction/Condition Type: Supernatural Illness
Traits: Undead, Famine, Gluttony, Curse, Mutation, Void, Occult
Trigger: Engaging in the act of Cannibalism
Onset: Immediate
Save: Unique to my setting I've added saves for the other three attributes so this condition is an Ego (charisma) save of DC 24. If you wish to see how you would fare, go ahead and roll here. Basically you would be about level 5 before you should ever be interacting with this potentially so assume that and we will give you benefit of the doubt and assume expert on Ego Saves 1d20+14 . For those who don't know besides Nat 1 and 20 if you fail the save by 10 or more or succeed it by 10 or more those are critical failures and successes respectfully.
- Critical Failure: Show spoilerYou become fully afflicted. You can no longer gain sustenance form anything but humanoid (Humans, Halflings, Gnomes, Elves, Dwarves, Tanturs very specifically in base Valerick, but expand as needed for your setting) flesh. Furthermore you are in effect soul-less, you no longer are the person you were, though you can act like them a little bit. You will slowly become naught but your hunger. Based on character level over the next 3d12 days you will become a Ghul (level 1-4), Grist (5-9) or Gazeri (10+) (haven't made these creatures but think ghoul type undead like entities of various danger and power/intellect, but totally enslaved to their hunger.
- Failure: Show spoilerYou give in despite your best efforts, however immediately after you know. You know somehow instinctually what is happening to you and it drives a deep despair in you. Some flee to remote places to try and avoid it, to starve what they will become. Some seek, in vain a cure at libraries and priests for their remaining days. Some simply choose to take out the body before the monster takes over. What path do you choose? 6d12 In that many days you will transform as above for a Critical Failure. But you are aware what is going to happen to you and that is why it takes you longer to change. You are resisting, just though it is futile.
- Success: Show spoilerDesperation is a scary thing. For a brief moment you almost listened. You almost, subconsciously, gave consent. Perhaps some small part of you did. You become Curse-marked, gaining the unique Feature Famine Touched: You need double rations daily to survive and still cannot gain weight. Even when you recover from this trauma, you will only get back to your old body weight minus 3d10+10 pounds (half this number for halflings, gnomes or other such small folk). Furthermore every night there is an accumulating risk of Ravenous dreams. Roll a flat check. The first night the DC is 1. It increased by 1 every two nights until you inevitably fail. When you do you gain no benefits from the sleep. You wake with Fatigued (2) that will not go away until you next sleep but you are to worked up from the dreams to try and sleep again, you must wait a full day to try and sleep again.
- Critical Success: Show spoilerAs that first bite touches your tongue and you realize what is happening, you immediately retch, spitting up naught but that bite and stomach acid and yet surprisingly you feel...invigorated. You feel fortified from this desperation. You remove all Fatigued conditions and if you are suffering a Drained Count reduce it by 1. You are still actively starving to death if that is your circumstance, but can ignore negatives for that for 1 full day.
Treatment
There is no known treatment, only the mercy of a swift death. Though a few stories of divine intervention exist in some odd corners of the world, as with any such horror story of Valerick, though none have ever been verified enough for even any of the Ascended faiths to take credit for them.
Prognosis
Death is the preferable outcome. But a ravening cannibalistic corpse eating undead monster is the more common occurrence.
Affected Groups
Sailors and their ilk are the most common stories, as being lost adrift at sea sees a far more inhospitable and less food accessible environment to survive in than any comparable affair on land, except maybe in the extreme polar or desert regions of the world.
Prevention
Do not partake in the act of Cannibalism.
Epidemiology
It is a Curse-bound affliction and seems to just be a permanent fixture within the tainted Manna of the world.
Absolutely incidious. It's like rabies but so much worse.
Thank you for that, genuinely rabies in some parts was one I pulled inspiration from in regards to how I choose to describe the symptoms and its progression. Absolutely took a touch of inspiration from that real life illness as well as from like half a dozen different popular and like mythology based sort of 'zombie/curse of cannibalism' stories and tall tales. Its really nice you picked up on that! :)