Brax grew up sleeping in a big room with all of the other kids the College orphaned, so he learned how to sleep through just about anything, and privacy was a concept that never especially sunk in. He always assumed that everyone would always know everything he did, everything he said, everything he owned. Now that they’re actually letting him into the school proper, a student instead of a well-treated servant, they’re telling him he has to have a roommate apologetically, as if sharing a room with one person rather than a dozen is a deep, burning hardship.
He’s excited, mostly about learning magic, even if the taste of becoming one of the people that ripped his mother’s body out from under him isn’t entirely sweet. The roommate is an afterthought. The most minor of inconveniences, in the scheme of things.
The room is beautiful. Not very big, but the beds look comfortable, there’s a high vaulted ceiling, and a window with a view of the Bloodgarden, and two desks with drawers that lock. Brax considers if he owns anything that’s worth locking away. He doesn’t, but he’s sure he’ll acquire something in his studies. He’ll make an effort to. He sits under the window, watching people tend to the garden below, until he’s startled by the sound of the door opening and closing behind him.
“Oh,” he says, turning around. “You must be my roommate.”
They’re short, dark-haired, and well-dressed, but unkempt, with dark circles under their eyes. “I must be,” they say. Brax crosses the room to them, putting out his hand. He’s learned to be polite in his life thus far, if nothing else. They take his hand with both of theirs, and hold on, looking up into his face. Their eyes are dark, but with some odd, intense light in them as well.
“I’m Brax,” he says.
“Is that all?” they ask.
“Should there be more?” he asks, a little taken aback.
“You can make it up, but these fuckers expect a show,” they say, gesturing back out the door with their head and dropping his hand. “I don’t care what they think, but you might.”
“What’s your name, then?”
“Moriarty Pierce, if you want to be boring about it.” They smile at him. “I go by Mori.”
“You’re named after—?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Mori says, shrugging one shoulder. “Is Brax short for something?”
“Yes, but I’d rather not,” Brax says. Mori laughs a little at that, and their eyes sparkle. Brax feels a little bit of vertigo looking down at them, especially as they keep their entire attention focused on him. He hasn’t been fully regarded in years.
“Fine with me, but out there, I’d use it,” Mori says.
“Are you not new here?” Brax asks, a little confused.
“I am, but my sister’s an alum. Well. She would’ve been.”
“Did she…” Brax starts, unable to find a tactful word to end the question with.
“She wasn’t allowed to graduate, despite the fact that her thesis project did exactly what she said it would,” Mori says, and Brax feels their focus drift away from him as they give him a tight smile. “Be careful here. This entire place was built on treachery, and it stops for no one.”
“Uh, alright,” Brax says. “Heartening.”
“I’m just being honest with you. No one else will be.” Mori sits on the left-hand bed. “Is it alright if I take this one?”
“Sure,” Brax says, sitting on the other bed across from them. “Doesn’t matter to me.”
“How did you end up here?” Mori asks.
“Orphaned.” Brax shrugs, looking at the floor. “They came to take my mother’s body away, took me as well. Guess I should’ve hidden.”
“But they let you attend, instead of just serving?”
“Seems that way.”
“That’s very unusual, from what I’ve heard,” Mori says. “Have you ever done magic?”
“Not that I know of. I just…I have this place in my mind I go to, and…I don’t know. I was helping a professor put his coat on, and I drifted there, and somehow he came with me. He asked me what was happening, I told him as much as I knew, and then he was dragging me to the Head. I thought I was going to get thrown out on the street, but…” Brax shrugs. “Here I am.”
“Could you take me there?” Mori asks, that light flicking back on in their eyes.
“Uh…I can try,” Brax says. Mori puts both of their hands out, and Brax takes them, closing his eyes and feeling that dizzying pull he gets, and—
His train car is barely big enough for two, but Mori seems amazed by it, spinning around and then beaming at Brax. “You built a fucking pocket dimension,” they say, then laugh. “Without trying! No wonder they wanted you.”
“I don’t understand,” Brax says.
“It’s—it’s a very rare thing, I think. I don’t know. My sister told me once it was the ability she most wanted, but almost no one can actually manage to learn it, or at least actually execute. Theory’s easy. I think.”
“I…I really don’t know what I’m doing, or—“
“That makes it even more incredible. That means that people in the world without any training can just do magic. Do you know what that means? That means we don’t fucking need the College.”
Brax pulls them both back into their dorm room. “That sounds a bit treasonous.”
“What’s treasonous about giving magic to the people?”
“Quite literally everything,” Brax says.
“It’s what Moriarty wanted to do, and we venerate him as a hero, right?”
“I’m not comfortable with this conversation right now,” Brax says.
“That’s fair,” Mori says. “But think about it.”
“Well, you know my story now, what about you?” Brax asks, even though he can already sort of guess. Rich family, College alumni, guaranteed admission, set for life.
“This is my second life. My first was hundreds of years ago. I think I know what my purpose is in this one, but I need to learn magic to fulfill it, and I think the Administration felt guilty enough about what happened with my sister that they just let me in,” Mori says. “I’ve never done magic before. I’ve…had it done to me.”
“Wait, sorry, your second life?” Brax asks, as he mentally makes the note that he is not nearly as good at predicting what people are about to say as he thought he was a minute ago.
“Yes. I won’t give you the whole story yet, people tend to stop talking to me once I do, but I’ll tell you soon. I trust you.” Mori smiles at Brax again. “I hope we’ll be friends.”
Temple of the Blood God - Draw Everything June 2025
I have combined several of the poses from #adorkastock 's #draweverythingjune2025 This depicts the interior of the massive Krovic temple that pays homage to the demigod and first vampire who leads the kingdom. The statue depicts the grand prince granting his vampiric gifts to his first 'Childe' bringing his best friend into the fold of immortality. Below a blood priestess is about to grant the same gift to a graduate fledgling of the keepers. I'm glad I did this but I think the rest of my draw everything june drawings are going to be quick sketches that I'll revisit because this ended up being a crazy month.
Cursed Blood Combines Fast Action and Bloodpunk Style
Cursed Blood is a fast, brutal bloodpunk roguelike game with co-op for Steam Deck and Linux via Windows PC. Thanks to the ongoing creative talents of developer David Marquardt Studios. And it's all coming to Steam Early Access.
We finally got the moment we’ve been waiting for David Marquardt Studios has unleashed the public demo for Cursed Blood on Steam, playable on Steam Deck and Linux via Proton. Which is also complete with a brand-new trailer that’s basically a love letter to chaos, carnage, and bloodpunk style. If you’re a player hungry for something fast, brutal, and flat-out stylish, this demo hits like a katana to the chest.
We are working with Unity 3D, and have the game running on Steam Deck (even thought it's not perhaps considered 100% Linux) a Linux port shouldn't be too high effort on our end.
Right now, David Marquardt Studios is putting most of its energy into the Windows PC version to hit the Q1 Early Access release. But if everything goes smoothly, Linux absolutely deserves a spot in the lineup too.
And yes, March 2026 is set for the release, but after playing this demo via Proton, that date feels way too far away.
The new trailer also gives a raw look at the game’s world, its high-speed combat, the progression systems, and the brutal bloodpunk identity that makes Cursed Blood feel like its own beast in the roguelike arena. From the moment the trailer kicks in, you can feel the tone. Which is certainly dark, cinematic, and dripping in blood-fueled energy.
Cursed Blood Demo Trailer
David Marquardt, the Creative Director, puts it perfectly: “Fast. Violent. Cinematic. And built for replayability.”
And honestly? He’s not exaggerating. Since you can feel the identity of this title the second you dive in.
What You’re Actually Getting in the Cursed Blood Demo
This demo isn’t some watered-down preview. It’s a straight-up showcase of what the game is and what we’ll be diving into again and again when the full version drops.
A Roguelike With Real Replay Power
Every run mutates. Literally. So the world shifts, arenas evolve, loot routes change, and the challenges scale depending on how hard you push. Since no two runs are ever the same. Each attempt unlocks new katanas, gear pieces, and Shrine-powered upgrades that keep long-term progression interesting instead of grindy.
Combat That Doesn’t Give You Time to Breathe
This game wants you to play aggressively, and honestly? It rewards you for it. You dash, deflect, parry, carve, rupture, and slice your way through enemies in a blur of speed. Every hit sprays blood, and that blood powers your abilities. It’s violent, it’s stylish, and it just feels right.
Co-Op Chaos From 1 to 4 Players
Whether you’re running solo on your PC or diving in with friends, co-op is meant to be wild. Drop in, chain combos, revive each other, split enemy attention—no matter the team size, the game adapts. Expect laughter, yelling, and “DUDE DID YOU SEE THAT?!” moments.
Blood Is the Heart of Everything
In Cursed Blood, blood isn’t just gore—it’s your identity. You spend it to mutate mid-run, fuel special attacks, upgrade weapons, and push your build into full-on madness. Runs evolve fast, letting you experiment with wild builds every time.
Guns, Knives, Shuriken - Oh My
Rip guns off enemies and blast them point-blank. Whip knives and electric shuriken through limbs like a psychotic ninja. Everything is meant to be messy and satisfying.
Bosses That Don’t Stay the Same
Bosses mutate mid-fight, switching patterns and ramping up aggression until you’re sweating. Beat them and you’ll claim trophies you can offer to the Shrine of Vermillion, unlocking new powers and paths.
A Bloodpunk World That Actually Feels Alive
The world mixes industrial machinery with forbidden blood-tech, making each biome feel dangerous, mysterious, and worth exploring. Secrets, treasures, challenges, since everything shapes your run and progression.
Early Access Drops March 2026
And it’s promising more: new biomes, bosses, weapons, mutations, co-op features, and progression depth.
The bloodpunk roguelike demo is here to show you exactly what Cursed Blood wants to be, fast, brutal, expressive, and endlessly replayable on Steam Deck and Linux via Windows PC. If this is just the appetizer, the March 2026 Steam Early Access release might actually break us.
Howdy! It's been a while! Sorry about that, things have a way of getting busy and out of hand from time to time, you know how it is. Anyhow, today's subject on the Fatal Wound, something I'm not sure that I've gone into yet:
THE ECONOMY
Terrifying, I know.
So, how does a world running on blood and madness purchase goods and services? Do they purchase anything? Surely shared trauma and a hungering mass of flesh that warps reality just beyond most cities borders would bring people together, no?
Yeah, no, unfortunately not. In fact, things have arguably gotten worse.
In a world driven by practicality, where it is difficult to procure your own goods and caravans are required to haul various goods and services between settlements, Trade is big, even if standard beliefs of currency have changed. We skimmed over it a bit in...I want to say either Entry 1 or 2...but to bring light to the details, just as the blood of men is one of the only sources of fuel and method by which to fight the nightmares, so too has it become the primary currency.
Yes, it is just as grim as you are imagining that to be.
Blood typing remains the same as it does in the modern day: Universal Donors to Universal Recipients and all the good and bad that comes alongside that, just that once outside the body blood becomes metallic. Arguably, the new poisonous properties of blood have actually aggravated the usual typing charts, and resulted in rather...strange, twisted, and terrible social strata.
Universal Donors are seen as a rare sign of privilege, status and wealth. Their blood is good to be spent anywhere and anyone can receive it. It lacks most of the poisonous property, and has as such created a stigmatism of those with high self worth, and perhaps even actual material worth. Their blood is usually a brighter red and polished as though a ruby.
Universal Recipients, however, are seen as wild, savage, cast off to the fringes of society in terms of social standing, but seen as nonetheless necessary for the continued function of said society. Their blood is especially potent to monsters and is thus prized by all those who wish to brave the maelstrom. It generally has less spending power on its own, due to most being unable to directly funnel it into their body and thus require glass vials to store it. Their blood is usually a darker color, almost like that of a garnet, and due to having to keep most of their "money" in glass vials, they often become prime targets for loan sharks and predatory businessmen, who want nothing more than to use their unique anatomy to hook them up as an ATM for the rest of their lives.
An interesting thing should be of note though, that often times these perceived social roles are tossed on their heads when it comes to the caravans themselves. It is often times seen as a sign of good luck to have a universal donor on board, a more efficient fuel source for their engines and a good backup should anyone become injured, but its seen as doubly lucky to have a universal recipient as well, an ordained angel as it were guiding them to safety amongst the sea of vile threats. It is said that some caravans will even pay handsomely for the services of such individuals, enough so that there exists a market of fakers and impersonators, and just as many dead caravans to match.
To have both on board however, is auspicious indeed.
Howdy howdy! Just gonna jump right into it today! Subject: Hunters and Mechs. Should be a quick one.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
What makes Hunters so valuable? Everyone's blood turns into metal, and can be used as poison against the monsters, right?
Well, yes. The main difference between a Hunter and your average civilian is one of three things: Stupidity, Necessity, or a Death Wish. To brave the Maelstrom without any kind of protection, armed with only your blood and some rudimentary scrap metal weapon, just to kill a few monsters that are the physical manifestations of mankind's fears and memories twisted into horrifying approximations of life and bring them back to help feed and supply a camp or town?
You can see where the fundamental issue lies.
Most "Normal" people in this world, when tossed into such a fate would understandably opt to instead be a mech jockey. Issue there comes in resources.
It's not the best idea to mine. The maelstrom pervades everywhere not protected by the Karmic engine, and there is only so much range it has. Think of it like an anchor. Based off the amount of energy it can receive, it can anchor so much of a radius around it, making a bubble of safe space. Sure you can chain a few of them together, and if you had a large enough settlement with enough blood to power them, and the Union decided to bequeath you with more of the engines, you could definitely eventually create some kind of mine.
But that's not where the resources are.
To make a mech, your best odds are to go out to where they mechs are, aka, in the Maelstrom. Ruins of old battles. Lost expeditions. Find the corpses of those before you too stupid or unlucky to make it out alive and tear whatever metallic meat you can from their rust and steel bones. Take it all back to your crawler if you can. Reassemble it. Baptize it in blood to withstand the onslaught of the Maelstrom.
Speaking of.
The second reason of mechs. When you have a crawler, the people on-board are already tithing to keep its generator active, but ever so much is siphoned off, filling reservoirs that your mechs can fuel their weapons from. Shell the bullets. Coat the blades. Steel is stronger than flesh, but which holds out longer, the blood or the spirit?
Howdy Howdy Y'all, and welcome to the next entry as I hop back on my bullshit. Realizing too late that I probably could have cut up the last post into several separate smaller posts, but oh well, ce la vie.
"The Grand Mass", aka "The Crawl" is the source of the psychic maelstrom, and the distinct scar left upon the planet by The Bomb. A living amalgamation of silicon, titanium and flesh that grows and spreads like a slime mold. Invasive and very difficult to excise once it has taken enough root. Enough colonies have spread and rooted themselves about, the early days noting the appearances of the Maelstrom as more of a local omen that the plague would need to be excised with little note as to the exponential growth of the size of said storm to the size and age of each Crawl mass.
Hence, "The Grand Mass".
Some colony, somewhere, exists on such a large enough level that the entire planet has been bathed in its current Weather. Smaller off-splits are still found, colonies to the main continent, and are dealt with on a ruthless timeframe due to the worsening effects they have on the local emanations of the Maelstrom. Most react with reverent fear, cowering and fighting as though a dark god stirs. Still.
Others take to worshipping it.
While not all, most Grafs seem to feel a pull towards the idea of The Grand Mass, as though this hungry flesh that usually only seems to wish to infect and excise humanity from existence were a unity and congregation worth joining. That there is a purity in it. That once "tamed" or perhaps understood, held the secrets for humanity's evolution.
As it exists currently, the mass seems to make effect to tear apart machine and flesh alike, consume and add to its own mass. Ambulatory on its own as small colonies, or worse, puppeteering scrap left over from the old wars and hunters fallen to its effect previously, it is hard to tell if the crawl is responsible for the beasts directly in the Maelstrom, if the two exist as part of some strange life cycle, or perhaps that the two are extant, Cause and Effect but not directly related. Those who can study it usually aren't the ones who can survive going out into the Maelstrom, and live specimens are hard enough to acquire on their own, much less observe in the wild.
Shorter post today, mostly just working to keep a regular schedule on these things. As a reminder, my asks are open and who knows, may just use the question as inspiration for one of these!
