The Warlock's Curse

Long before the first scream echoed in the mountains of the Black Nest, there was Gwoarth — a mortal warlock who sought the power of the sky itself. Obsessed with dominion over storms, he struck a pact with the Feathered Coven, an ancient order of harpies who wove their spells in the wind above forgotten seas.

"But the coven does not give — it takes."

On the night of the Cursed Moon, when the lunar light was blackened by blood, the pact was sealed in talon and bone. They bound Gwoarth's spirit to their broodmother's dying breath, fusing his flesh with her cursed plumage. His hands twisted to claws. His feet became the talons of a predator. Wings sprouted from his back, yet bore him no freedom — for each feather was etched with the sigils of servitude.

The Becoming of Featherhex

In this half-form, neither man nor beast, Gwoarth was banished to wander between mortal soil and the jagged crags of the Harpy's Roost. His voice — once the murmur of spells — became a shriek that could shatter the bones of the unprepared.

The name "Featherhex" was whispered by the first souls who heard that scream and lived. They spoke of a figure cloaked in shadow, talons wet with the blood of oath-breakers, whose eyes reflected the moon's pale fury.

The Sound of the Curse

Featherhex is not merely music — it is the ritual scream of Gwoarth's endless transformation.

• The riffs are the sound of wings beating against the wind of the upper world.
• The drums are the thunder of talons striking the Nest Stone.
• The vocals are the curse itself — a harpy's shriek and a warlock's chant, fused into one unholy note.