A Collection of Forbidden Lore
Seven Words For Blood.
Ru'Thali Language and Traditions.
It has often been said that there is more to the realm than what we see. It's girth and breadth are beyond comprehension, and it's depth is to be found not by plunging downwards, but by passing through the many fissures and cracks in space and time. These fissures lead to places unknown. They are doorways to entire cultures, tribes and wastelands. Some lead to traps, and others to endless fields of filth and decay.
It was in my travels through one of these fissures that I met the Ru'thali people. They were a tribe of dark magicians who had a strange obsession with blood. Their magic was drenched in blood, they ate blood, and used it to mark their bodies, walls and floors. What I found most peculiar about them though, was that their language had seven distinct words for blood. To them blood was not just blood, it was cthor, vhar'lek, tzarnuk and korid. Each kind of blood was quite different, and had different uses.
Cthor was the blood spilled as the result of an accident and vhar'lek was blood that was sticky and syrup-like, but not yet crusted. Zchu, or zchu flakes were large hardened sheets of dried blood that had been broken into book sized pieces that were easier to handle. Mombhet was the blood that men could not spill, and chaiv'et was a lump of blood that bulged from within the veins - sometimes plugging them and causing tingly sensations.
The Ru'thali people used blood in their magical rituals to bait and draw demons, like flies to excrement. When enticed by the offered blood, the demons would plead and howl oh, so morbidly. Their wails of starvation and addiction were heartbreaking and induced great fear, but the Ru'thali people were great negotiators. When at their breaking point, the Ru'thali would trade the demons blood for magical items, insights, secrets and power. It was via these trades that they became obscenely powerful.
The Ru'thali wanted my blood and offered to teach me their magic in exchange. This was good I thought, and so I agreed to trade. They stripped me and lead me into a darkened chamber. Though embarrassed, I complied as I silently wondered about the remaining two words for blood. It was only when the strapped me down to their crude benches and beat with whips, barbed straps and heavy clubs, that I understood what tzarnuk was. It was quite literally the blood drawn from a man who is terribly afraid for his life.
When they extracted this blood from my wounds, the room darkened and a painful howling could be felt in the air. There were demons among us, waiting for a taste of my tzarnuk. I was elated and rapt at the sight of them - so terrible, violent and strong. And it was at that point that my wounds were sealed and my carcass was dragged away. For the seventh kind of blood was repulsive to demons. It was called khorid, and was rich with excitement and elation. To demons, it was like blood in one's milk or an embryo upon the yolk of one's egg.
The Ru'thali kept their word and taught me their magic. They gave me new clothes, and sent me on my way. With this new knowledge, I shall never look at blood in quite the same way.
