The Blood Moon

[Asztal]

† THE BLOOD MOON †

“Are you truly alive if the soul is not in your possession?”

We are the silence after the scream. The last shadow a heretic sees. 
We are the blade that answers necromancy and the fang that pierces stolen souls. 
We are the Blood Moon — eternal, unsleeping, unkind.

— THE CREED —

The dead must rest.

That is our first truth. From tomb to pyre, the soul's journey is sacred — and those who twist it 
for power are aberrations. Necromancers, soulbinders, witches who warp essence like thread— 
they are not misunderstood. They are monsters.

We do not play at mercy. We do not spare in the name of love. We are hunters, and we bring 
finality to those who would make a mockery of it. Every revenant we put down, every stolen soul 
we free — it is not vengeance. It is balance.

We are not knights. We are not saints. 
We are the red mark beneath the moon, and we are watching.

— A WORD FROM THE SOVEREIGN —

“They call us monsters.

Let them. The wolves care not for the opinion of sheep— 
especially those who rot in graveyards they dared to awaken.

I have walked among the blasphemers. I have heard them justify their desecration 
in the name of grief, hunger, power. I have watched them steal the breath from the dead, 
bend ghosts to their will, pull souls from lovers’ mouths.

And I have unmade them.

This is not vengeance. This is not justice. 
This is the balance — crimson and cold.

If you have heard the moon whisper, if the stench of wrongness makes your tongue curl, 
if your hands shake not with fear but with purpose:

then bleed for me.

And rise.” 

— Lucienne Adaira, Sovereign of the Blood Moon

— THE BLOODMARKED —

SOVEREIGN 
The First Fang. The Silent Queen. Death's Chosen. 
She who founded Blood Moon, eternal and unfaltering. 
All crimson paths begin at her feet. 
(Held by Lucienne Adaira)

— — —

DOYEN 
High oracle of shadowed truths. Keeper of forbidden rites. 
Adviser to the Sovereign and bearer of long-forgotten names.

— — —

CENSOR 
The law given fang and will. Judge of betrayal, purger of weakness. 
Their word is final; their blade, merciless.

— — —

REVENANT 
Chosen of the moon and hand of its wrath. 
Assassins, spies, and swords of silent vengeance. 
They do not knock. They enter.

— — —

ACOLYTE 
Those whose blood has been tasted and not rejected. 
Proven loyal. Trained in the old ways. The true face of Blood Moon’s crusade.

— — —

NEONATE 
Freshly awakened to the truth. 
Guided, watched, and tested beneath the eye of the moon. 
Not yet trusted — but not forgotten.

— — —

THRALL 
Bound by fate or fear. 
Marked but unmade. They stand at the threshold, 
waiting to be judged… or consumed.

“To disturb the grave is to dig your own.”

We do not recruit. We do not plead. 
If the moon calls you, you will know. And if you are worthy, 
you will bleed.