[Curseborne] The Primal #2

In our last blog entry on the Primals of Curseborne, we explored what the Primals are and one of the most ferocious families: the Get of Lyka. Now, we take an abrupt turn, delving inside darkened rooms hiding within urban anonymity. There, we find secret research centers, hidden laboratories, and horrendous test chambers. In these remote campus buildings, abandoned factories, cellars build close enough to the metro line that you can’t hear the screams emerging from within, you find…

The Hydes

The Hydes are sure of one thing and one thing alone: they are the future.

Everything else is protean. Life is change. Mr. Hyde was Prometheus’s stolen flame, bursting from spark to inferno. From the cradle to the grave, from thin to muscle, from dumb to smart, from calm to anger. The Hydes know that change is inevitable, but unlike their fellow Primals, who seem content to simply ride (or God forbid, resist) the tide of transformation, the Hydes wish to master that wave. Yes, there are other Primals who draw comparisons to Cnut trying to turn back the sea and found himself soaked and almost drowned as a result, but the Hydes are more sure of their abilities than some Viking monarch.

All Primals can transform. They’re known for their wild shape and the baying of the Creature in their ear. Where the Hydes differ markedly is in how when they shift, their bones stretching, teeth distending, muscles bulging, and brain expanding, they don’t resemble some primeval animal: they look somewhere between a colossal human, a gorilla dragging its knuckles, an approximation of neanderthal man, and the next stride in humanity’s evolution.

Or so they claim. Other Primals look at the Hydes and wonder what it is they represent.

Our narrator, Lord Silas Hyde-Ruthyn explains as follows:

Freak. Monster. Psy-cho-path. I’ve heard it all before. What you’re looking at isn’t some bizarre experiment gone wrong, heavens no. It’s a carefully planned experiment gone right. The ignorant think we Hydes are the next step forward for humanity, but the truth is a lot simpler: the family head we’ll call Dr. Jekyll went backward, picking out all the strongest, smartest, most capable traits, and applied them to us. We welcome this curse. The side effects… Well, they’re unfortunate. But no experiment is without teething pains. Now, speaking of teething pains…

Hubris brought us here, if you can believe it. That’s what the others say, anyway, but what they call hubris, arrogance, over-confidence, dah dah dee dah daaah… Fine. We are what we are because we reached for it. Others are too afraid to even try wearing their hair in a different style, let alone experimenting with their nature.

We are young, however. A century and change of existence puts us in rare company, compared to the antiquated beasts we call cousins. We’re the youngest family, but that also means we’re the most capable of adapting to the modern world. We have a history of strong intellects and academic brilliance, too, putting us above the rank and file.

Experimentation is key. You need to test your limits. Push them. Exceed them. It’s the only way you’ll find the key to your true self. What the others call their Creature is someone we would interview and analyze, if we could. The truth is elusive, but we must find it. We will do the research.

And there’s more to the Hydes beyond this snapshot. Like all Primals, they can alter their bodies to hideous, destructive ends, but they also believe in expanding their intellects and experimenting with the magic of deals, pacts, and curses. Perhaps more than any other Primal family, the Hydes share kinship (at least in terms of a mutual hunger for power) with the Sorcerers.

Hydes possess a unique Inheritance, should a Primal focus primarily on their family Path. They can bottle their spells by embracing their curse, activating the powers from their stored magic in the future, for free, reflexively. What’s more, their wild forms are so gargantuan and cumbersome, every attack they make comes with the Wrecking tag, enabling them to demolish people, objects, and even buildings with ease.

Play a Hyde if you want to…

… exalt in your primordial power, inspiring terror in others.
… unravel the scientific secrets surrounding the Primal state.
… assert dominance over a group of like-minded or coerced individuals.

Lord Silas Hyde-Ruthyn

Lord Hyde-Ruthyn inherited his title at a time when such peerages could be passed down, and with it, he gained a country estate, a squad of diligent servants, and the largest illicit laboratory in the United Kingdom. Silas wasn’t close to his family before his mother’s death, having spent his youth at boarding school and his 20s jetting around Europe and the Caribbean, fitting in wherever he could as a lordling and whenever the allowance ran dry, a modern day Mr. Ripley.

Silas was never afraid of changing his name, face, and story to get a free drink, fresh lover, or nice place to stay.

And then his mother died, and he was called home to attend the will reading. It was a shock when he inherited the whole package, but he embraced the challenge, providing his older siblings with a comfortable allowance and proceeding to explore the family grounds.

It was in the cellar that he found a tunnel. And it was through the tunnel that he found the lab. It didn’t look like they’d been touched in a generation, but he was always keen on chemistry, so the new Lord Hyde-Ruthyn went to work.

Silas is very cagey about what his laboratory produces. Shows like Breaking Bad have made every Accursed certain it’s meth. His family’s connections to defense contractors make others suspect it’s chemical weapons. What is certainly true is Silas — intentionally or not — dove into his own supply, and it was shortly before or after doing so that he experienced his first transformation.

Lord Hyde-Ruthyn is thrilled with what his curse enables him to do, and takes religious notes on what his new body is capable of. He weekly tests his limits and then pushes himself to exceed them. The crew of Accursed he came to join are all of similar wealth, “good standing,” and fecklessness, and they routinely challenge each other in extremely dangerous acts concerning their Damnations and torments, just for the sheer joy of it.

Silas could easily be seen as a stuck-up, silver spoon, jodhpurs-wearing toff, but this is only half his story. His crew investigate curses and liminalities for miles surrounding his estate, destroying any malignant bindings and hexes they can’t otherwise turn to their advantage.

Silas detests his family. He loves the money and the luxuries, sure, but he knows the other Hydes are watching him, waiting for him to slip up and embarrass himself. He hates nothing more than being publicly humiliated. So Silas is hard at work, trawling through the family archives — genealogical, chemical, and as pertains to curses and scandals — to ensure he can master his curse and damn the rest of his relatives to ignominy.