Adventuring through twisted time.
While some Fight death, The others Curse Life.
Life for a Skađi is just that of a ticking time bomb, lying in wait for its explosion, not knowing if the timer is on ten or twenty. They used to be an honourable family, held in high regards by the Norse gods, their surname being the initial thing to pique the gods' interest in them. That was centuries ago now, way before the war, the curse of the Skađi’s already plaguing the family before Zeus could strike. When the war began the Skađi’s had hoped they would be free but this was not the case. The curse had set, and though the gods who had plagued them did not remember any longer who the Skađi’s were and what they had done, they still were not free of what one ancestor had done centuries ago.
From the moment Heracles was born his bomb began to tick, the annoying sound undoing his nerves as it constantly loomed at the back of his mind. The tick hurling him awake and from his bed, disturbing his studies, invading his privacy. He had heard tales of what peace was but never had experienced It for himself. Even before the family curse took hold of him, he was forced to watch as people enjoyed themselves in this peace he so longed for. Panic and anger filling his soul when he learned he was getting a sibling, loathful of why his parents would condemn another child to such poor torture?!
Soon, Ariadne Skađi was born and with her a way to break this curse, but what meant her death. Nervous of what his father might do he kept Ariadne away from him, their mother, the kings' wife helping of course. Both determined to keep the little girl safe until she was old enough to do that for herself, she would have no other choice at this because they knew not how Heracles would be plagued. That was the thing about the Skađi curse, it did something different to each member plagued. As the two children grew the curse began to take hold of the markings on their skin. Heracles knew what was next, he knew it would be bad however it affected him, so he left home.
For many years, even well into his curse he travelled, stayed away from home, doing more harm than good honestly. Until one day he stumbled into Magi territory, he tried to explain what was happening but the explanation did not match his actions. From inside himself he was forced to watch his actions, forced to see how people feared him for good cause, hated him for the pain he had caused. His outside scowl told the world he cared not for what people thought of him, except in his heart this really was not the case.
After many years one fateful night, he had managed to write a note to his men as they slept, begging them that no matter what he physically told them or how hard he fought them, to take him home. Loyal to poor old Skađi they dragged him there; here he still hides, serving his father, who no longer recognized his own children, as just as a servant. Doing all the king's wicked wishes because he could not stop himself.