In these days of dark and twisted powers, the ancient guardian trees succumbed to death's inevitable reign. Their spirits, part divine, rent the realms asunder, and ancient spirits found new voice.
The kingdoms' own ancestors. Forsaken, abandoned, enraged. Drawn by our Mother's blood and her daughter's power. Summoned by the serpent's staff grasped in splintery talons - twisted life calling restless death.
Through those nights where natural spirits hid from the cave of sorrows...a few shamans strode through the rift. Risking all to stand in Death's true presence, they brought fitting ends to the ghastly horde.
Some brought peace. Some brought d**nation.
From these struggles, a new secret has been wrung from the furthest realms. Forever now we shaman remember the ghosts who arose from the world's neglect. Our forebears, the Yongsang.
Ahante
Shaman Historian
The Yongsang: " Ghosts of people who have died untimely deaths, because of accident, illness, or violence."