South of the political maneuvering that was all too common in the Za Empire and the Holy Empire of Athemore, there were men who took a liking to the more bestial desires of man. These men desired a life of conflict and war, where they would enjoy the ever-present Raz'gothal and his whispers in their minds. They would bring much pride to the God, and the God would receive sacrifices and veneration wherever they went. Of these southern men, his favorites would lie in the Harkan peoples, one hardened by centuries of conflict with all their neighbors and yet also remained capable of leading raids across the seas. It was often that Raz'gothal would spend much time in a hidden form to observe and join in their revelries, and when a certain chief of the greatest tribe the Harkan had seen in quite some time, Agintir of the Hasir, began construction of a temple that would dwarf any undertaking the Harkan had tried before, Raz'gothal decided that they would receive a gift beyond anything he had granted before. He would take the form of a great boar and watch as the months passed by and the temple continued construction under Agintir. He listened to the war chants and prayers the Hasir tribesmen sent him, and he planned. He would gather his demonic and powerful magic into a great vortex in the heavens preparing to grant the Harkan people a boon beyond their wildest imagining.

It was said that one day the chief of the Hasir was alerted to the presence of a great beast near their encampment that had been eating much of the local livestock. Different men gave differing accounts of what the beast appeared as, and Agintir could not ignore it's presence for long. He eventually gathered a great war party and led a great hunt to take down this new beast in the hopes of further proving themselves to Raz'gothal. These men would spend days tracking the beast, always appearing to be slightly too late. Eventually, after 6 days of tracking, they came upon the beast eating a grizzly bear. The beast was 12 feet tall, with a single eye and had cloven feet. It's arms were the size of tree trunks and it carried one as a make shift weapon. As Agintir and his men sprung their trap, they watched as their javelins bounced off its skin and their swords acted as if they hadn't been sharpened in months. The beast continued to smash into the men, but many were agile enough to avoid being flattened by the beast. After a long fight, the beast appeared to be getting very tired while more than a few bodies of the war party laid unmoving, trampled by the beast's feet or weapon. As Agintir was about to announce the call to retreat, unsure of what or how this beast came to be, it opened it's mouth and spoke in the tongue of the Hasir.

"You have fought well, as you always have. The fact that any of you stand here still is a testament to your skill and prowess in battle. Lead me to your people, and you will be rewarded for your actions."

At this moment, the beast looked directly at Agintir. Speechless, the man unfroze before yelling commands at the remaining members of the war party to follow behind as they lead this beast to their encampment. Silence fell over them as they knew this beast was not just some random occurrence, but clearly a sign from the heavens. As they reached the camp, the rest of the tribe came out to see this beast that Agintir had led there. Finally, the beast spoke once more.

"The temple. Forge a cauldron made of the hardest steel, as large as you can. I shall await it's construction."

And as the day turned to night, and the next day did as well, the beast remained in the camp. Finally, the cauldron would be finished and affixed to the central room of the temple. As this was finished, the entire population of this encampment was brought to the still-unfinished temple as the beast stood over them. Taking the sword of Agintir, he cut along his arm spilling green blood all into the cauldron. The beast would lean into it as blood poured and poured, a seemingly endless supply of the green fluid until finally it crumpled, killed by the loss of blood. As it died, those present would swear that they heard words in a voice they did not recognize, in a language beyond their comprehension speak as the fluid bubbled and bursted as if over a hot fire. Eventually this would end, and a beautiful ivory horn with a dangerously pointed end appeared in the hands of Agintir. The horn had been hollowed out, and within it resided the green substance that now lay within the cauldron. A sign that could only come from Raz'gothal himself, the man drank the contents.

As the horn was emptied by Agintir, the effects had already began. The hair on his head and arms grew, spreading across his entire body. Horns grew on his head, and his spine elongated in a seemingly painful manner as he grew another feet above what the man had already been. His toes came together until they appeared as one of a Satyr's, and the frontal portion of his skull melded until his mouth and nose had turned into a snout, outwardly appearing as if it was a goat's but it's mouth full of teeth as if from a lion. As the transformation finished, the cry of pain turned into a shout of triumph as the braying could be heard all through the un-finished temple's halls. He handed off the horn to the man next to him, speaking in the same tongue as before but with a much more brutish and simple dialect. As this man also drank Raz'gothal's gift, the transformation also occurred. While not having the same effects for all, as some would only develop a single horn or a single eye as the dead beast had amongst other unique deformities, the changes were relatively uniform. Before long, the entire camp had taken Raz'gothal's gift. The blood had made them stronger, angrier, and their lust for blood increased ten-fold. It was not long before this gift had spread to the various tribes within the region. All drank from this cauldron, and all would benefit from Raz'gothal's boon.

It was not long before it was found that the blood would transform animals into bestial transformations of their old selves, but many would die in the transformation itself. This happened to the men and women who would drink the blood too, as the painful transformation would cause too much a toll on the drinker's body. It also seemed that the blood would lose it's potency the farther one traveled from the cauldron, and that more blood would have to be spilled to re-fill the cauldron as it emptied from the many would drink from it. It also appeared that those that could withstand it's effects more than once would gain it's powers even further, but the toll it took on the drinker's mind would worsen...

[Create Great Artifact x1, 15 points, and Curse People x1, 11 points on the central hex of the Harkan]