In the dim twilight of the first Gods there was made a scythe of the palest moonbeams and oldest oak that was destined to be the reaver of the first kings of mankind. 10’ tall it stood, its silvery edge curving nearly 4’ more. It could be wielded by anyone who dared, but laid the final wishes of the Old Gods upon those that did. That geas was so strong that no mortal ever resisted its strength, and the Curve of Chaos reaped its hellish harvest time
and again. No mortal king, queen, emperor or lord was safe as long as the scythe was carried by anyone foolish enough to dare the very Gods themselves.

The wielder was given seven powers to use in his search to destroy the royalty of man:

1) Invisibility
2) The Strength of the Largest Giant (STR 30)
3) The ability to regenerate all wounds as a Vampire would (1D10 HP/Melee round)
4) The ability to see at night as a cat would (as half daylight to 120’)
5) Total imperviousness to any spell or magik of the 5th Order of Power or less
6) A +5 save against all magik of an Order higher than 5th
7) Immortality from death of a natural and non-violent type. Thus the wielder would stalk the lands of men,
growing ever older yet never dying or tiring in the relentless task of slaying all men who would rule.

At the end of the beginning age, the Curve of Chaos was lost, reappearing at odd intervals to once again remind mortal rulers of their own mortality. It has been ten thousand years since it last stalked the world, and some dare say it is finally destroyed. But would you bet your very life upon that and crown yourself a king? I would not; Oh, no. I most certainly would not.