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Calamity Archived Lore
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Calamity Archived Lore (Or CAL for short) is a fan-made document, created in the effort of attempting to put almost all of Calamity’s lore in one place, as most of it is difficult to find since most of it comes from the Calamity Mod Wiki or messages from Devs on the Calamity Mod Discord, and even then most people aren't willing to scour through messages on the Calamity Mod Discord for hours.
DISCLAIMER
Stuff in this doc is no longer canon. Don’t take this as source source.
Any and all lore here is entirely outdated.
If there are any questions, DM Cei#2279 or Seraph#0531 for lore-based questions, and for editing questions ping (@) spooktacular#8169 in #lore-discussion. (Doc is discontinued, don’t do this anymore except for Cei, she doesn't mind. I know this because I am her, hi.)
Major Contributors to the document:
Celest [Editor and Creator]
Spooktacular [Former Co-Editor]
Seraph [Co-Editor]
Simon Keyes
Arcana (Arghabel Von. Gwnbodaeth)
TimerFun
Thank you all who helped!
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Not everything has to have lore. Many things in the Calamity mod itself are just in it for the sake of fun gameplay, and are just game mechanics. Here is a small list of things that are game mechanics and have no relation to Calamity’s lore.
To reiterate, quoting Mrrp himself: “the lore’s unfinished… trying to analyze every bit of [gameplay] isn’t going to work.”
“You spelled the name of Yharim's Mother's bow wrong!”
I didn't, it's Astreal Defeat and not Astral Defeat for some reason I don't know, maybe the devs just thought it sounded cooler.
“How come Yharim's lore seems unfinished?”
Because it's not actually finished yet, the full lore will come out around when Yharim does, and it's already many pages long even though it's not done. I will add it when it's all officially released.
“Can you change (thing about lore)?”
No, as said in the disclaimer, we don't write the lore, we just put it all in this doc for others to read.
“When will more lore be added?”
No idea, there aren't any exact release dates for this stuff, though we'll try to get lore in as soon as possible when it comes out.
“Are donor items canon?”
No, the donator items are not canon, and have no impact on the lore whatsoever. This includes things like Akato, Baguette, The Oracle, and Virili.
“Will Yharim/Draedon/Noxus/Xeroc be a boss at some point?”
Yes, all of them will indeed be bosses, given enough time.
“Why was Xeroc armor changed? Didn’t it have to do with Xeroc?”
Xeroc armor was changed to Empyrean armor because there is no relationship between the two.
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The Major Characters are characters that, if taken out of the story, the lore as a whole would change greatly and the game itself would be drastically different. These will be put in order of most to least significant.
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Note: This is not all of Yharim’s lore; his actual lore is many pages long, though as of now it’s not done or ready to be released yet.
“I would not be able to bear a world without my faithful companion by my side. Fortunately, fate will have it so that it is a world that I shall never have to see, for better or worse.” - Tyrant Yharim
Years ago, there was a family that lived in the Jungle Temple. In this family were Yharim, his brother Ignalius (who ended up being in a cult and always got into all sorts of trouble with the Jungle leaders and his family), and his parents. Yharim’s father is someone we have very little information on, since he seems to have just existed, but Yharim’s mother, however, gave Yharim a dragon egg she found while hunting and always taught Yharim to try to follow the way of peace. She wielded the bow Astreal Defeat.
One day, Ignalius set up a ritual to summon Xeroc — an extremely powerful light god — using the Terminus so that he could show off to his followers. Ignalius ended up accomplishing this, but Xeroc, unfond of being summoned, saw the ritual as an insult. So, they showed up in a hideous, gruesome, and incomprehensible form that drove Ignalius, along with anyone else that may have been unfortunate enough to witness it, temporarily raving mad.
After this, the leaders of the jungle decided they had enough of Ignalius and the trouble he caused, along with the rest of his family. They gathered the four, took them to the pits of the underworld, and threw them into the scathing hot lava alongside some of their possessions including the dragon egg Yharim’s mother gave Yharim. As they burned in the lava, the heat of it caused the dragon egg to hatch— and thus, Jungle Dragon Yharon was born. The Jungle Dragon grabbed Yharim and carried him out of the lava on his back. The rest of Yharim’s family did not survive the incident, however, and consequently, Yharim swore revenge on the leaders of the jungle for killing his family.
Soon after Yharim had mostly recovered, he went to the leaders of the jungle. There’s a bit of conflicting information from here: either Yharim simply slaughtered everybody in the room, or in pure rage he slammed his arm down so hard that it killed everyone in the room, breaking his arm and creating such a loud noise that Permafrost heard it all the way from the Ice Biome. Believe what you wish to believe. Either way, the jungle leaders were now dead. But for Yharim, this wasn’t enough to satisfy him—he decided to take his anger and hatred out on the rest of the world, as well.
“... Where is Lord Yharim? He must be up to something…” - Archmage Permafrost, after Yharon’s first death
Soon, Yharim began to rise to power. He had Yharon burn down a large section of the jungle to invoke fear into the people, although he used more than just brute force. He was a charismatic person, capable of invigorating any soldier to fight for him. Yharim could even convince and “convince” people to ignore kidnappings and the like, particularly when Draedon was in need of test subjects. Eventually, Yharim took over the jungle, claimed the Jungle Temple as his own, made himself an army, and began his iron-fisted rule over the world. Yharim wields the True Tyrant’s Ultisword, or more likely a far more powerful blade that looks much like it. His Auric Tesla suit is far beyond the suit we make in-game, and simultaneously acts as a powered exoskeleton and a suit of armor.
“I’m worried for Lord Yharim. He was not in a particularly good mood once we found out you defeated his close friend.” - Amidias, the Sea King, on Yharon’s first death
It may also be worthy to note that Yharon seems to have some power over the solar eclipse, or perhaps even the sun itself, as he is the key to unlocking a more intense version of the solar eclipse. It is not quite known why this is at the moment, though hopefully we will one day find the answer to this question. I would write it off as a game mechanic, but even the townsfolk themselves acknowledge it as coming from Yharon somehow.
Yharon has the ability to revive, being a Phoenix-dragon. However, he is soul-linked to Yharim, meaning that if Yharim dies, Yharon will not revive.
“Hmm… What power was Yharon holding back?” - The Dryad on the Buffed Solar Eclipse
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“The witch unrivaled. Perhaps the only one amongst my cohorts to have ever given me cause for doubt.” - Tyrant Yharim
In a distant cave of a mountainous region, there lived a family of mages whose magical powers rivaled demigods, one of whom was Calamitas. This is not her true name, however, and perhaps it will never be known. Her parents taught her to use dark magic without falling prey to the mental toll it took to use it.
One day, however, Calamitas would awaken to her family crucified after a heated debate with a rival faction. The mob of those from the faction still outside threw her into a frenzy and forgot what her parents told her about using dark magic: she nearly killed the mob and afterward, teleported them into the pits of hell to burn forever. After this, Calamitas started learning the arts of necromancy to revive her family, but only partially succeeded in doing so with her brothers, who ended up as malformed eye-like monstrosities.
Not long after, Calamitas heard a voice in her head, telling her to seek the Jungle Temple. This was Yharim, who had seen Calamitas’ great power. She eventually found the Temple, and with nothing else to do, joined Yharim’s ranks.
“You seem so confident, even though you are painfully ignorant of what has yet to transpire.” - The Witch, Calamitas, during the battle with her
At some point, Yharim somehow found out about the Moon Lord, and him being sealed inside of the moon. He knew he couldn’t unseal the Moon Lord alone, so he sought out Amidias, the King of the Sea. Amidias, seeing through Yharim’s intentions, refused to help the Tyrant, and Yharim was furious. For Calamitas’ first task, Yharim ordered her to evaporate the ocean Amidias lived in out of spite. It took days, but almost all of it was razed, turning into the desert. Leftover from the chaos became what is now the underground desert, and Amidias was eaten by a giant clam. Amidias’ pet, Duke Fishron, ran after the destruction, seeking shelter in the other ocean, the only thing getting his attention now being his favorite snack, truffle worms.
“Times like this I wish my home was still in one piece instead of evaporated away. I don’t blame the witch for anything, it’s just… Oh, nevermind.” - Amidias, the Sea King, on Calamitas destroying the Sea that is now the Desert
Over time, one would think Yharim’s anger at the underworld for burning him and his family would fade but it grew more intense until he could bear it no longer and sent Calamitas to destroy it as her second task. She charred buildings, killed and transformed the denizens, and flooded it with (even more) lava. At the end, she went to the capital of hell, the Brimstone Crags, so she could kill the Brimstone Elemental, the strongest of the 5 elementals. The Brimstone Elemental was brought close to death but survived. After this, the Brimstone Elemental went into a frenzy, killing anyone who dared to worship her or tread into her sacred grounds, as she now despised anyone who did not reside in hell.
“The most powerful of the elementals, bent on exacting revenge upon the bloody inferno that demolished her home. Finally put to rest, she will suffer no longer from the grief caused by the deaths of her people.” - Tyrant Yharim on Brimstone Elemental’s death
With this, Calamitas completed her second mission, but began to have doubts in Yharim and even tried to point out some flaws in his rule. However, Yharim kicked her out of the throne room, and she grew frustrated. She was also assigned a 3rd task at some unknown point between this and the creation of her Clone: dealing with Silva, a Dryad demigod who was in the rebellion against Tyrant Yharim. Silva, however, could not be killed, for as long as plant life exists, she cannot die. Calamitas instead threw her into the sulfurous sea to burn and dissolve forever, and over time, she sunk into the abyss. However, her presence allowed plant life to flourish in even the deepest parts of the abyss, hence the presence of Planty Mush and Tenebris.
At this point, Draedon had decided to try something new: cloning. The first thing he tried to do was to clone Yharon. This, however, failed miserably, creating the Dragonfolly. He and Yharim also made a clone of Calamitas in secret; even though this was weaker than her, it was instead made to contain her power if needed. However, through looking into the mind of one of Yharim’s soldiers, Calamitas found out about the clone of her and it’s purpose. She, at this point, had enough of the Tyrant Yharim and attempted to rebel. She summoned Golem to distract Yharim’s soldiers, stole important documents from the throne room, and escaped. After the Golem had been killed, Yharim cursed Calamitas— to be compelled to return to him, with this curse intensifying over time. Calamitas met with Braelor and Statis, the leaders of the rebellion, and gave them the important documents she stole. However, she did not stay for long, as the curse lingered in her mind, torturing her. She was compelled to return to Yharim— so she did— and Yharim removed the curse with the guarantee that in turn, she would do whatever he commanded, and inflict unimaginable cruelty to his opponents.
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(Draedon has no canonical gender, but we’ll say he’s a he for convenience)
“Draedon? He’s… a little ‘high octane’ if you know what I mean.” - The Cyborg
On a ruined, desolate planet with no life, far away from Terraria, there awoke a robot named Draedon with no memory, although there once was. Nobody knows what this race was like, other than it was strong enough to not have to worry about anything Draedon did in the past. Draedon was rather confused about the situation, but eventually decided to leave this forsaken wasteland he was in. How this planet was destroyed is a mystery. Draedon constructed a spaceship and explored the vastness of space, and was eventually drawn to Terraria.
“To experiment is to fail. To fail is to learn. To learn is to advance.” - Draedon
Draedon landed and met the Tyrant, and worked for him under the agreement that Draedon would create anything Yharim required, with near-infinite funding and test subjects, as well as the added advantage of being able to work on some of his own projects. At some point, he also made a weapon of immense power: his personal sword, the Exoblade. It’s also possible that he made the original set of Exo-weapons, such as Celestus. He also made the original Auric Tesla armor, which was made for Yharim so he could use his full power potential without breaking his arm again if that did happen. Given his log found in the Underworld, it also appears that he forged the Murasama.
“I see you have awakened Draedon’s old toys. Once useful tools turned into savage beasts when their AI’s went rogue, a mistake that Draedon failed to rectify in time.” - Tyrant Yharim on the Mechanical Bosses
For Draedon’s first non-exo gear experiments, he decided to make three mechanical beings to do some tasks for him. First was The Twins, a bot made for security and in general keeping an eye on things. The second was The Destroyer, who was made to mine out huge chunks of the world for iron, gold, and other useful minerals. The third was Skeletron Prime, a bot made for war and destruction. However, due to unknown reasons (possibly a malfunction within their code), they eventually went rogue, going on a rampage, killing everything that stood in their way. He also made attempts to clone Yharon and Calamitas, making the Dragonfolly and Clonelamitas, and he made the Devourer of Gods’ Cosmilite plating later on.
“Draedon thinks he can build awesome machines, but he doesn’t know how much crap I’ve stolen from him and sold by dismantling his drones.” - The Bandit, likely talking about Wulfrum Drones
Draedon’s final inventions were the Exo-Mechs, the Jungle Plague, and subsequently the Plaguebringer Goliath. The Exo mechs are improved versions of the old mechs he made (Twins, Prime, and Destroyer), with new abilities, more durability, and better AI. We should get more details once Draedon comes out and we fight them ourselves.
“The mind of the insect fought the control of the nanotechnology, nothing like the simpler creatures I had used as test subjects. It grew increasingly violent, and only once subdued did it receive simple orders. However, if we were to utilize it at all, then there is no other way than to let it roam freely. I will consider this further.” - Draedon, in his on the jungle, talking about the creation of the Plaguebringer Goliath
The Jungle Plague was made by Yharim and Draedon in collaboration, as a combination of a relentless virus capable of devouring and converting everything and nanomachines designed to control anything. Was it practical? No, but that was not of Draedon’s concern; any researchers who displayed reticence were given leave, for he had no room for hesitation. It is implied that his nanomachines have been tested on lesser life forms, able to completely control them. He had experimented with mechanical augmentation on a Queen Bee prior to the development of the Plague, making it an ideal host for the virus. But this insect resisted control, growing increasingly violent. It was not the targeted, plague-spreading killing machine he had initially planned for, but it was still a weapon to put into consideration.
“The plague was just one of the many experiments authorized by Yharim to raze towns to the ground. This is probably one of the few he shelved for being too terrible.” - Amidias, the Sea King, on the Jungle Plague
Draedon’s Logs
Scattered throughout the world are abandoned research bases and stations: armed to the teeth with left-behind machinery and logs, written by Draedon himself.
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"The Devourer of Gods is extremely powerful. However, he is young, foolhardy, and very lazy. Perhaps if he had been given time to develop he would have turned into quite the threat." - Amidias, the Sea King, on the Devourer of Gods
One day, Yharim got a report from one of his men that an enormous serpent had devoured a whole platoon of his finest soldiers. Naturally, this interested him greatly, as very few beings other than Braelor or Statis, leaders of the rebellion against him, could manage anything similar. Yharim sought out this man-eating serpent, and in his searches, found it feasting on its latest prey. It introduced itself as The Devourer of Gods. The Devourer of Gods, who at this point had grown to nearly a mile long, had been having trouble finding food as of late due to his prey learning how to escape him better. Yharim made an agreement with the Devourer that he would feed him as long as it worked under him. The Devourer, putting its ego aside, took the offer, and joined Yharim’s ranks.
“This serpent’s power to assimilate the abilities and energy of those it consumed is unique in almost all the known cosmos, save for its lesser brethren. I would have soon had to eliminate it as a threat had it been given more time and creatures to feast upon.” - Tyrant Yharim on the Devourer’s death
The Devourer received his name and reality-bending powers from feasting upon the Astral God: Astrum Deus. Before, he used to tunnel through Terraria, although prey became more adept at avoiding him and his species. He makes his home in a self-conceived pocket dimension, and will occasionally use this as a way to have a sneak attack by going into his pocket dimension after he “dies”, coming back as an ambush.
“Forged from the cosmic steel of my own creation, it resists nearly every attack, yet allows the creature the same flexibility it would have without it, as well as augmenting its dimensional abilities. I remain pleased with the result.” - Draedon, in his log on space, talking about the creation of DoG’s armor
His armor, however, is not natural. It was made for him by Draedon himself after Yharim had Calamitas bring Braelor and Statis and threw them into DoG’s pocket dimension. The Devourer of Gods was rewarded with his Cosmilite plated armor after killing the two rebels. Very little is known about Cosmilite, other than the fact that Draedon makes it himself and that soldiers Yharim has hand picked himself to keep track of the Devourer don armor made out of it. Uniquely, this armor does not hinder the Devourer’s movement, allowing him to move freely, as well as augment the wyrm’s dimensional abilities.
“The Devourer of Gods’ cosmic armor is unique in that it is capable of not only protecting his body from tearing itself apart when ripping through the fabric of space and time but also allows him to control his powers.” - Amidias, the Sea King, on the Devourer of Gods’ Cosmilite plating
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“We long ago feared the light of the red moon. Many went mad, others died, but a scant few became blessed with a wealth of cosmic understanding.” - Tyrant Yharim on the Blood Moon
Long ago, millions— perhaps even billions of years ago, right after the universe was first created, there were a race of Light Gods and a race of Dark Gods. The Light Gods were obsessed with order, hierarchy, creation, and balance. The Dark Gods, on the other hand, were obsessed with chaos, anarchy, destruction, and war.
Eventually, the Light Gods became tired of the Dark Gods and their corruption of the universe, and made the choice to go to war with them. To become more powerful for the upcoming war, they fused into a greater being, with Xeroc becoming the main consciousness by force, with them being both the first and most powerful. Thus, they began going to war against the Dark Gods to wipe out their kind from the universe.
It could hardly be called a war, as it was more akin to a slaughter. Xeroc wiped out most Dark Gods effortlessly, killing them one by one. However, a few holdouts did manage to escape Xeroc's wrath and flee to a planet called Terraria. Two of these were Cthulhu and Moon Lord, both of which likely had a different name back then. Out of spite, they, along with a few of the remaining Dark Gods, made Noxus: a weapon that was made from the corpses of their brethren, meant to someday hatch and destroy everything in the universe, destroying all of Xeroc’s work he put into it. Noxus holds reality warping powers strong enough to hide itself from Xeroc along with, intentionally or not, naturally spreading the Astral Infection wherever it travels.
Meanwhile, Xeroc figured they had eradicated all of the Dark Gods, or at least all that could be a threat. Prefering to not act on much in the universe, and instead chose to simply observe. But they chose to intervene in select cases, along the lines of if anything became powerful enough to threaten them or their creations, Xeroc would wipe them out of existence; Xeroc also wiped out any lifeforms that attempted to get in the way of things they were working on, or ripped apart/destroyed reality on a large scale.
After a while, Xeroc either found out about Noxus, found out about the two Dark Gods, or maybe both. How, we have no idea as of now. So Xeroc went to Terraria and the "battle" began. Cthulhu was the first to fall, with Xeroc firing a searing laser that completely demolished it, with only his flesh remaining. This eventually formed into the Crimson over time. Moon Lord was defeated soon after, with his bottom half being disintegrated. What was left of him was weakened and sealed inside of Terraria's moon. Xeroc then shifted his aim onto Noxus, but Noxus had already escaped, starting the game of cat and mouse between the Light God and the Dark One. To this day, Xeroc watches Terraria occasionally to keep an eye on these two Dark Gods, with the Blood Moon happening being his gaze. Once sentient life took root on Terraria, some found out about this, and getting discomfort from it, they made houses under the ground to avoid Xeroc's gaze. However, the moon never truly turned to blood, and it was the mild insanity caused by their gaze that made it seem like it was.
One day, a man named Ignalius chose to attempt a summoning of Xeroc to show off to his cult. Ignalius used an ancient artifact called the Terminus to summon Xeroc. Not much is known about the Terminus as of now, other than it is capable of summoning Xeroc. Ignalius managed to succeed in the summoning, but Xeroc manifested in a hideous, incomprehensible form. Seeing this drove Ignalius insane for a time, alongside everyone else that was there. This was the last straw for Ignalius and his family, causing the Jungle Leaders to throw Ignalius and his family into the lava of the underworld.
Not long ago, after ruling over Terraria for some time, Yharim had become bored. None able to challenge him, he set out to challenge the strongest being he had ever heard of, and the man who was the reason for the slaughter of his family: Xeroc. Eventually, Yharim did find them, and challenged them to a duel. Xeroc acknowledged the Tyrant's power, but showed Yharim how weak he was compared to them. The fight was over before it even began, and Yharim faced defeat before he, or his opponent, even lifted a finger. He returned home, depressed at how absurdly outmatched he was.
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The secondary characters are those who aren't important enough to shatter the lore/game if they are removed entirely, but aren't quite minor characters either as the game and/or story would still be affected rather greatly. These will be in alphabetical order.
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“My homeland may have been dried up, but the memory of my people still exists. I will not let that be in vain.” - Amidias
Of the kingdoms of the world, among those long gone and those which still stand today, none can compare to the domain of the ocean crown. Its houses of vibrant coral and pearl shone like a jewel on the dull seabed. Those who lived there were proud, and they distanced themselves from the rest of the world obsessed with the belief that they were superior to the beings who traversed dry land. This led them to be secluded, and though many knew of its existence and beauty, nearly none knew of the world within its walls. It lay far beneath the surface away from the prying eyes and grasping hands of the humans who sought its riches, and thus existed peacefully without disruption for hundreds of years. Yet change was inevitable, and the tranquil world beneath the waves would soon be breached.
Amidias was heir to royalty, and was destined to take the throne to lead his people once he became of age. Yet, Amidias’ disparity to the rest of his kind was quite evident from the moment he could make his own decisions. Choosing to explore what lay beyond the walls of the palace, he enjoyed the company of dolphins and other fish, learning much of the world from them. However, one day, he learnt of the terrors of the world above. A whale he had been following was brutally injured, and harpooned to death only to then be hauled onto a great wooden ship. The water turned from crystal clear to a murky red with the blood of the animal within seconds. He could not approach the area for days due to the nausea induced by the mere smell of it. He now knew of the terrible weapons and ambitious minds of the sailors who often searched for his hidden city looking for treasures to ransack and sell. He wished only the best for his people, and as he grew older he began to worry for the safety of the kingdom in which they lived.
In time, Amidias inherited the crown and gained a family. No longer would he explore beyond the walls into the vibrant blue, or muse of life’s curiosities, drifting in the open waters. He constantly worried for the wellbeing of his family, never allowing his children to explore for themselves. He was brave, and a warrior at heart, but weighed down with the burdens of life. He feared that he could not protect them all. He vowed never to allow his people to venture to the land above, and yet… even with his greatest efforts, it was inevitable that if they would not change, change would meet them.
A man who could breathe as easily as they could, move with equal swiftness, strike with as much power, if not more, swam to the depths to hold council with Amidias. He sought no treasures, took no captives. All he wanted was for Amidias to listen to an offer. One that would grant power, magic, great control… and Amidias refused. He could sense the madness in the mind of the man who had come from above. Nothing like the simple, greedy ambitions of the men who wanted to live as kings, rich from the ocean’s bounty, but rather, a burning hatred that had cooled to the razor’s edge of obsidian. Amidias would take no part in his schemes. Upon his refusal, the man had nothing more to say. He stood silently, and nodded before leaving. They would never see him again. That night, their world would turn to one of scorching flames.
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Braelor was born in a distant village far on the outskirts of the Royal Family’s kingdom. As a child, it was clear that he was blessed with herculean strength, for at a young age he was already completing tasks that many grown men would have found impressive. Word of these feats spread quickly among the many settlements, by method of travelers who crossed those roads. Eventually, it inevitably caught the attention of the jealous and insecure ruling family of that time. They had to have control of the young man who so impressed the people of their kingdom, or control would be difficult to maintain. Sending an envoy to recruit him into their forces, they sent all they could offer. Gold, fame, land. And Braelor turned it all down. Only until they wove a clever lie about an opposing kingdom’s army threatening war on their own, and that his village would likely be destroyed unless he himself fought for them, was Braelor convinced. He would have become a warrior for the Royal family under these conditions, had it not been for another man who had heard of his power: Statis.
Before Braelor left with the envoy, the assassin visited him in the night. He bore a single message and bade the young man to follow him. Still naive, though wary, Braelor trusted Statis, as the cloaked man immediately made himself known. Statis was going to take him to see something that he would need to know. It was not a short journey, but Statis led him swiftly through the night. And they soon came upon the burnt remains of a village settlement. Having never left far from his home before, Braelor had never seen something akin to the destruction before him. Corpses remained, festering flesh hanging off skeletal frames and flies buzzing through their remains. And in the middle of the ruins, the Royal Family’s banner. Braelor would not return to leave with the envoys the next day.
Years later as the looming threat of a rebellion became ever more apparent, it were these two men who were the prime targets for capture and execution. What the Royal Family feared was exactly what had occurred. As a symbol of honor and valor in a battle against oppression, none would come to mind other than the warrior bedecked in the heart of the jungle’s bark, Braelor. Any attempt to crush the rebellion failed, for in the mountains where they resided, their forces held sway with Statis’ knowledge and Braelor’s leadership. For years on end it seemed that these two would be able to overthrow the ruling class and bring about a new, better age.
However even for the valiant warriors which Braelor and Statis held command over, not all would proceed as planned. For nearing the time in which it would have been best to strike, before their very eyes, the Royal Family which they at once both hated and knew so well, was torn apart from the inside. And a new era would begin which would leave them behind, struggling to keep up. For their new foe was stronger, more confident, and more ruthless. Yharim had arrived.
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“You are indeed stronger than I thought. Though the bloody inferno still lingers, observing your progress.” - Tyrant Yharim
The Doppelganger of Calamitas was made by Draedon as one of his two cloning experiments, though this time knowing the flaws he made on the many failed Yharon clones. It was made in an attempt to contain Calamitas’ power if she ever attempted to rebel, which before Yharim became as powerful as he is now was a concern to him. She found out about the clone by reading the mind of the necromancer who created it. When she unleashed Golem while rebeling, it went into the lab and unleashed the clone upon the world. This clone wanders the night, having no other purpose than to kill and destroy.
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During his time, Daedalus was a genius in nearly every field of science and art. He constructed weapons for battle, designed towering marvels, and peered ever further into the miracle of life. He was also an excellent strategist in battle, as proven in his efforts to protect the kingdom which was his patron. Never once did it fall to an enemy siege, nor did it fail in its conquests. Yet, Daedalus detested war, merely seeing it as a waste of resources and time. He only ever gave advice to battles he knew would be crucial to the capitol’s survival. However, he never found these to provide him enough interest, and would always once more turn to the mysteries of life, the code of the universe.
Of course, such brilliance does not go uncredited, nor unnoticed. His name was common knowledge across the land, and many sought to possess his intellect, either to destroy or utilize to fit their needs. Unsurprisingly, every attempt to capture the scientist, be it in battle or not, failed. Even factions who aimed to recruit him peacefully found their offers rejected, for the simple reason that Daedalus was as loyal to his patrons as he was wise. He was void of carnal desires, as well as instinctual fears. It was as if he was one of his own creations, each gear perfectly calibrated, the system fine tuned for maximum efficiency. It seemed he would never falter.
However, time passes, as it does, and like any mortal, Daedalus began to succumb to the inevitable approach of death. As he grew old, the vigor of youth fled his body. If his weary mortal form were to fail him, he would never decipher the language of the universe, as he hoped to do. He would seek a way to cheat death. Once more falling back to the reliability of calculations devoid of emotion, he devised a last bid for life. He worked like a madman in his final days, never showing his face, nor making human contact when necessary. After countless days of toil, assisted only by his own creations, he had built a device capable of replicating the complexities of the human mind, a massive machine, the culmination of a life spent exploring every nook and cranny of the known world. It was finally complete.
And that very same year was the year when Yharim came to power. The Jungle Tyrant’s own chief advisor and scientist, the cyborg known as Draedon, was aware of Daedalus’ intellect. Although he also knew of the scientist’s aversion to violence, he believed that it would be necessary in their conquests for him to be eliminated before they could progress further. He himself led the Tyrant’s forces against the city, forces that far outnumbered the armies the kingdom had withstood before. Even had Daedalus not been occupied with his own dilemma, his assistance might not have been able to halt the attack. Daedalus himself knew that this would be his final chance to complete his life’s work. As the siege above prolonged for days, which became weeks, his plan advanced, the machine working away at the challenge of preserving the miracle of consciousness.
However, as he awaited its completion, a foreign emotion wormed into his mind: Guilt. Above, carnage raged on, and many lives were lost. It would be one of the worst atrocities in recorded history. He knew it had been a hopeless battle from the beginning, but such a slaughter… even he could not ignore such an atrocity. In his obsession to cheat death he had nearly betrayed those who had kindly provided for him, shelter and resources. In a fit of anger at the invading forces and himself, he redirected the power meant to sustain his mind after he had converted it to instead trigger a series of massive explosions, which would cause devastating losses to the invading army. This would mean that he would never complete his life's mission, but he knew it had to be done. He would never be able to live with the guilt that he had abandoned his duties entirely. As the walls of the city finally fell, and its people were massacred, Daedalus at last looked death in the eye, and triggered the explosives. Most of Yharim’s army was destroyed, along with the city itself. The blast was of such power that it incinerated Daedalus with his laboratories deep underground, embedding shrapnel far into the earth, and transforming the area into a frigid wasteland.
Remnants of a special type of alloy he made can still be found deep within the tundra, in the form of Cryogenic Ore. However, being encased in ice for countless years had dulled the power of this metal, leaving its durability and strength noticeably weaker than it once was.
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“I must admit, I am quite shaken by now. Never would I have imagined that I would see one of the Elder Gods again. Not in this lifetime anyhow.” - Amidias
The Moon Lord is part of a race called the Dark Gods, the natural enemy of the Light Gods. Both of these races were born when the universe began, though both were drastically different from each other. After Xeroc slaughtered most of their race after fusing with all of the other Light Gods, the remaining Dark Gods were forced to flee. Out of spite, The Moon Lord along with a few other Dark Gods created Noxus, a superweapon meant to one day hatch and kill Xeroc.
However, Xeroc soon found out about this creation, and went to go destroy it, along with the remaining Dark Gods huddled up there. The other Dark God who put a great amount of work into making Noxus, Cthulhu, was blasted and turned into the Crimson. The Moon Lord lost his legs and was sealed in the moon of Terraria, and to this day there are cultists determined to keep him this way.
“I feel the balance of nature tilting farther than ever before. Is it due to you, or because of the events leading to now…?” - Archmage Permafrost, after the death of the Moon Lord
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“Why ice magic, you ask? Well, my parents were both pyromaniacs…” - Archmage Permafrost
Archmage Permafrost was once renowned as the greatest wizard in all the lands. Born to a wealthy family with access to innumerable tomes and scrolls detailing mundane and magnificent magic alike, he studied tirelessly and etched his name into history by pioneering the creation of several spellcasting systems. However, his growing pride as the brilliant mage that revolutionized magic was dashed as he enlisted in the army —as he witnessed his advancements used by both sides to butcher the other with ever greater ease, his pride was shattered.
“Once before, the Archmage who opposed the Lord resided here, cloaked by constant artificial blizzards of his own creation, which no longer fall. He likely chose this place as a conduit for his research into his ice spells, and extended the period of time that this place would remain frozen.” - Draedon, in his Ice biome log, on Archmage Permafrost
Permafrost withdrew quietly as the war raged on. He collected all the literature of his family and took them to the snow-covered mountains, where he created a frozen castle to guard that knowledge from those that would abuse such power. Rumours of the Archmage and his vast library of forbidden knowledge in the castle of ice spread, drawing earnest scholars and wicked men alike to him. Permafrost’s perception of others sharpened until he could read their intentions with the slightest glance; in his decades of seclusion and the thousands that approached him, only a select few possessed an integrity that assured the Archmage his teachings would not be misused.
“I was once the greatest Archmage of ice that ever hailed the lands. Whether or not that is still applicable, I am not sure…” - Archmage Permafrost on his former glory
When Yharim, recently crowned as the Ruler of the Jungle, set foot in the castle of ice and asked for the Archmage’s guidance, Permafrost had already all but judged him completely; a brief talk betrayed the nature of Yharim’s rise to the throne and confirmed his character. Permafrost refused —Yharim never told him that his refusal would be the Archmage’s last interaction with another human for many generations, as the Tyrant had placed runes around the castle, causing it to collapse in on Permafrost, turning it into Cryogen.
“Have you heard the story of Archmage Permafrost? Rumor has it he’s been locked away in an icy prison by Lord Yharim.” - Amidias, the Sea King, on Cryogen
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“The stories have it that when Providence faced and defeated Yharim and his forces, she lost a lot of energy and reverted to a more skeletal form. She’s merely a fraction of the power as she was before.” - Amidias
Fire has no desires to speak of, nor does it have pains to lament. It has but a purpose: to burn is its meaning, to turn to ash is its resolve. Such is Providence, a being of alleviating light, and corrupting twilight. Born from a colossal impact of dark and light magic, during the ancient conflicts between angels and devils, her creation was of holy and demonic origins, and her presence embodied that concept in its denial of both. An indifferent crystal, formed in the heat and power of the mana. Within, a conscious spark took a mind of its own. In the midst of the torrent of magic, Providence felt the good, and the evil: the utmost desires of the world, for ill-intent and to live. It was disgusted. Held in limbo between both forces, it began to take a form of its own; from the land itself, a shell of stone, and from the blaze of battle, her wings. Anything her flames swept across was cleansed, purified, and reduced to an impartial ash. In life and death, there is vice, there is virtue. In purity, where nothing lives and nothing dies, neither sin exists. That is her objective. A world cleansed of desire.
“A core surrounded by stone and flame, a simple origin and a simple goal. What would have become of us had she not been defeated is a frightening concept to consider.” - Tyrant Yharim on Providence’s death
And one day, Yharim noticed this flame. For one of the first times, he grew truly panicked as it went through the world, for if it was left for too long to gather enough power, it would create a flame powerful enough to evaporate the largest bodies of water, char the plants, and make the entire world devoid of life. Yharim gathered his army and went to war with Providence in an attempt to defeat it. However, Providence had an army as well: thousands of Guardians made from the souls of her most devout worshipers. In the end, the battle ended with the goddess winning, though barely. The Profaned Goddess lost most of her power and her thousands of guardians became merely handfuls of them, and a great number of Yharim’s forces were killed in the war.
Afterwards, Yharim sent the Devourer of Gods and his 3 sentinels after Providence so that she could be stopped for good. However, Providence was able to hide herself away in the sun, though if her holy artifact is drawn out, she will come and kill the one who dares lay their hands upon it.
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“The Rune of Kos holds a significant portion of Providence’s brand of magic, easily distinguishable from all the others. Activating it in certain places would have some… risky consequences.” - Amidias
The Devourer of Gods’ Sentinels are those he has recruited over the years while working for Yharim. They are completely loyal to the Devourer and nobody else, unless their master says otherwise. There are currently three, being Signus, Ceaseless Void, and Storm Weaver. We’ll go over them one by one.
“Signus. The Void. The Weaver. Each represents one of the Devourer’s largest spheres of influence. Dispatching them has most likely invoked its anger and marked you as a target for destruction.” - Tyrant Yharim on the death of all the Sentinels of the Devourer
Signus is a shapeshifting entity from a place called “The Void”, which is where most Eldritch Abominations come from and is what fills the endless gap between universes. Other than this, however, there is very little known about The Void at all.
Signus eventually left The Void for currently unknown reasons, and went to Terraria. He ended up being worshiped by the Statigel Clan and became a renowned assassin, taking any contract and being able to always kill the target, as he had inhuman stealth abilities and could shapeshift. There was, however, one target he could not succeed in killing, and this was Jungle Tyrant Yharim. Details of how it went are unknown to some degree, but Signus engaged in a battle with DoG in his own personal pocket dimension. However, neither of the two were able to kill each other, and it ended in a stalemate. The Devourer, impressed with Signus’ might, offered him a position as one of his sentinels. Signus accepted, thus becoming one of the Sentinels of the Devourer.
Recently, Signus has been seen patrolling the depths of hell, searching for Providence, the Profaned Goddess or any sign of her for his master, and, if needed, kill her himself.
The Devourer of Gods' ability to cross dimensions was not mastered instantly. Magic of such incredible scale demands incredibly precise use and knowledge to avoid disaster - and attempts to experiment with it will inevitably result in at least a few accidents. During an attempt to breach the barrier between worlds, one such mishap occurred: a deadly rift formed, in which the concept of reality itself faltered.
It required the power of both the Devourer and Calamitas to seal the void, stabilizing it with a localized dimensional reinforcement field and further encasing it in a shell of cosmic steel - but a strange phenomenon occurred as the rift was contained. The matter and the lives it consumed were regurgitated as shapeless masses of dark energy, draining the life out of every living being around it. Despite being a highly valuable research specimen, it was ultimately deemed impossible to control after extensive testing and condemned to waste away in the abandoned Dungeon.
The Ceaseless Void is only technically a Sentinel. It is under the same magical contract as the others, but it has no mind - only a will to consume the life force of others. According to Calamitas’ research, one of two events will occur if its casing is ever compromised: either reality will force the void to collapse and annihilate itself, or it will spill out and spread without end - reducing the entire universe to waste scattered in the abyss between dimensions.
“I tried looting the Storm Weaver’s armor once. Before I could get a chunk of the stuff… Well, let’s just say the bigger, fatter cosmic worm arrived and it didn't end well.” - The Bandit on the Storm Weaver
For all of their potential for growth and killing power, worms had been looked down upon by their enemies and regarded as little more than burrowing pests for centuries. However, the rise of the Devourer of Gods turned such a conception completely on its head, instilling a fresh wave of fear and paranoia into the world at large. Worms were no longer merely exterminated for being a nuisance, but actively hunted and wiped out. The Devourer's own species - already regarded with caution for their power to assimilate the abilities of their prey - was rendered virtually extinct within the span of a few short years.
It was only by the hand of fortune that the Devourer itself happened across the last of its species: a newborn mechworm that could hardly fend for itself, starving and on the brink of death. The Devourer took pity on its fellow kind and brought it to Yharim's forces, who restored it to health and outfitted it with armor akin to that of the Devourer. Despite having spared it once, the Devourer of Gods is highly aware of its protégé's potential, and would not hesitate to turn against the lesser worm should it grow strong enough to threaten its master.
However, that day has not yet come. The newly christened Storm Weaver resides in the outer reaches of the atmosphere, preying on the wyverns that roam the skies with it. Though lacking the advanced mind developed from assimilating countless human prey, it has enough capacity to process the orders given to it - while retaining the feral animosity of a beast to direct against those it hunts.
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From the first day creatures probed their way onto solid ground, plant life had always held the upper hand. Trees spread their boughs over quiet hills, and algae crept its way along raging waterfalls, each leading their own, quiet lives. However, predecessor and overseer to it all, is the first nature spirit, Silva.
Having been born from the conceptualization of flora, and becoming the first Dryad, Silva was one of immense wisdom and power. With her connection to all the plant life in the land of Terraria, her health and vitality were linked to the well-being of its entire population, from the sprawling forests to each blade of grass. She would continue to live as long as somewhere, the tiniest plant still spread its leaves. She also wore Silva armor, which contains an eternal pool of vitality, and upon its wearer sustaining injuries, lends its spirit, mending their injuries, and healing their scars.. In order to shave away at the countless centuries of her lifespan, much of Silva’s time was spent slumbering deep beneath the earth. As she only awoke when nature was in great peril, rarely did anyone see her. Thus, she was naught but a legend.
That is, until the flames of Yharim’s dragon, Yharon, razed much of the jungle during the time he single-handedly overthrew his predecessors, the prior Jungle Tyrants, to begin his rule. The devastation caused by the attack was on the scale that Silva was weakened considerably. In order to stop further destruction, she made the decision to stay conscious until her power had returned. However, word soon reached her ear of the mounting resistance, gathering those across the land who sought to topple the Tyrant’s rule. Rather than waiting, she took her chances, and decided to make herself known to the forces of Braelor and Statis. Considerably encouraged by the appearance of a powerful nature spirit, the two warriors went to battle, aiming to strike down the Tyrant. They never returned.
When Silva herself went forward to try her hand, it appeared that, from the information gleaned from the prior assailant’s minds, most likely Braelor or Statis themselves, the witch Calamitas had learnt of her existence. In response, she had prepared a contingency. Taking control of the waste and pollution formed from Draedon’s constant experiments, she swallowed the Dryad within a pit of the filth. It was living torture, each breath a struggle, and the air burning as the corruption filled Silva’s lungs- yet she could not die, only fade away. Having suffocated Silva to a near comatose state, Calamitas finally released control of the toxins, collapsing from the strain of containing the Nature Spirit, and allowing the waste to flow into the waters of the ocean. As Silva sank with the filth, the form of the Dryad began to crumble away. Only her soul was confined to the depths of the Abyss, where the constant flow of noxious chemicals spewing from hydrothermal vents keeps her from gathering enough power to rise once more. However, her influence as a powerful Dryad continues to be apparent, as her very presence allows plant life to grow in the abyss, where not even a trace of light can breach the darkness.
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“It is a travesty, one of the most threatening biological terrors ever created. If this creature were allowed to combine every slime on the planet, it would become nearly unstoppable” - Tyrant Yharim
The Slime God, one of the very first creatures to ever come to exist in the Terrarian's world, is the core control unit of all things slimy. Slimes are some of the first creatures to evolve from the very first living cells present from ancient times, and even though they do not possess sentience themselves, their 'core' is what gives them shape and allows them to move about the world. The Slime God was born after a microbe evolved and began consuming other microbes around it. Eventually, after gaining enough cellular mass it began absorbing larger flora and fauna, gaining intelligence from each creature it enveloped. It became large enough to begin influencing other beings around it through telekinesis. Through telekinetic energy, the Slime God shapes its slimes from water and various dead plant and animal matter; it wills them to consume more dead matter to continue growing the slime population. Through this process the slime god has formed the Crimulan and Ebonian Slime Gods to defend itself from any possible threats.
The Slime God also acted as one of the two gods worshipped by the Statigel clan, an ancient clan of ninjas, along with Signus. In fact, their clan was presumably named after The Slime God, and their armor forged from its matter. However, with most of its worshippers dead, it has lost a great amount of its power, along with the gear that can be made from the god’s gel. And even if the Slime God wasn’t weakened, the gear that was forged would still be weaker than it used to, as the special technique to forge it has been lost to time along with Statis and his ancient clan of assassins.
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“I’m assuming you’ve heard the legends that speak of the ninja, Statis?” - Amidias, the Sea King
In ancient times, the world was split not between nations formed of governments, but rather of factions, or clans. Among these groups, wars and battles would often break out, costing them many lives, and deepening angry wounds. Often, they would stop at nothing to destroy any particular rival of their own, and so, would bring about destruction to themselves and their enemies. In this fashion, many lives were shaped amidst bloody turmoil, and pathetic tragedies were common. However, one clan stood separate from the mindless brutality. It hid amongst the shadows, allying to none and an unknown enemy to all. Many even doubted its existence, yet, in our time, there is one undeniable legacy which confirms its actuality. For this was the clan from which the legendary ninja, Statis was born from.
Statis was raised in a troubled world. In those times, though the age of warring factions had passed, only one family held control over the land, in an iron grip. The centralized regime had taken up residence in the far jungle, and many of the clan’s younger generation had decided that the time had come to abandon the seclusive ways of old, and join the ranks of the tyrannical army the royal family had already amassed. However, there were obviously those who sought to uphold the ancient traditions which had lasted the clan for so long. Among these people were Statis’ parents. They raised him to follow in their footsteps, to learn of the arts that his ancestors had passed down for so many generations. From the moment he could walk, they took him deep into the mountain paths, and high amongst the peaks. He spent a childhood of serenity, among the distant peaks, climbing sheer rock faces, learning to walk so that not a sound could be heard, and to hunt whilst only taking what he needed. Among these, he also had his other practices, which involved deep studies of the weapons and techniques that the greatest of his bloodline had used in battle. Even as conflicts and arguments which often grew violent seemed to occur daily around him, Statis remained vigilant in his duties.
And soon, at a young age, his efforts were recognized by three elders, those who held the highest authority. Sensing great potential within the child, they decided upon something which had weighed heavily on their minds for quite some time. Who would carry on their legacy? As the number of those who remained loyal and were capable warriors dwindled, they had realized that their clan’s fate was sealed. The golden age had passed. And so, they sought out one last person: one truly worthy of bearing the legacy of the Statigel clan upon their shoulders, one worthy enough for them to depart their knowledge, their gifts, and even their burdens upon. Receiving his parent’s blessing, Statis was now trained personally by the elders. Learning the rituals and arts which were some of the closest guarded secrets of his clan, Statis honed his skills to a razor’s edge, and ever sharper. By the time his fifteenth birthday had passed, his abilities in stealth and assassination surpassed what even the elders could not have dreamed of in their prime. And yet, he remained ever loyal, simply training daily until the time he would be needed.
It was a pale winter day when the armies of the royal family first arrived at the stronghold. The method by which they had reached this secret place was immediately, and heart wrenchingly clear. Among those who led the troops to their position were all-too familiar faces. Faces who had once been family to some, and friends to others. They had betrayed their old companions out of bitter frustration. Amongst the sea of the opposing army, the elder’s fears were finally confirmed: this would be the end of the clan’s existence. Statis truly was their last, and only hope. By now, he had grown into a young man, and the rate by which his skills had increased since had not slowed either. Alerting him, the three bestowed their final gifts. One gave him a kunai of phantom-like properties. The second, a sash containing the blessings and powers of an ancient god. And the final, the armor of the founder of the clan, who had forged it from the solidified essence of the primordial god who had partaken in the creation of all life on the planet. With these, they bid him goodbye, with one last request: never betray the teachings which he had so far stayed true to his entire life, regardless of what horrors or tragedies he may encounter. And with those final words, he struck out under the cover of a cloudy night.
Silently, he carved a path of death through the encampments of the enemy army. Not until the break of dawn, when the forces rallied to finally destroy the stronghold, did they realize nearly a quarter of their army had been silently and mercilessly cut down. From then on, for decades, and even into the time of the Jungle Tyrant’s rule, those distant mountains were considered cursed, and no army ever dared to venture into its rocky valleys and dark cliffs, in fear of the silent assassin — Statis.
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“Not unlike the fusion of spirits which haunts the dungeon, this entity is formed of not one, but multitudes of sinners. What holds different for it, however, is that the limitations caused by the artificiality of the dungeon’s existence does not apply to it. It is the laws of hell which brought them together into a single overlord of the underworld.” - Draedon, in his log on the Underworld.
The Wall of Flesh is a horrifying creature that seems to guard the underworld in one way or another. Like both the Polterghast and Plantera, this nightmarish amalgamation of flesh acts as a soul vessel, but not for any mere soul that died there. It contains the souls of many sinners whose souls were sent down to the underworld after death, and like the other two has adapted to the environment, in a similar but different way. While the other two soul vessels that exist in this world adapted to their enclosed spaces they dwell in, not having to worry much about size other than being large enough to take up the full space of many of the caves and halls they roam, the wall of flesh also also did this, but since the underworld has much more space, it was able to adapt to be larger to force it's victims to constantly retreat, and so it took the form of a wall. However, unlike the other two vessels, it hardly ever decides to come out on it's own, and must be attracted via a sacrifice being made, as it seemingly hungers for more souls to add to itself endlessly.
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The Minor Characters are those who, if removed from the game, wouldn’t have very big or much of an impact both game and story wise upon being removed, and usually there isn’t too much lore about them at all. These will be in alphabetical order.
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“A horror born of pollution and insatiable hunger; based on the size alone this was merely a juvenile. These Scourge creatures are the largest aquatic predators and very rarely do they frequent such shallow waters.” - Tyrant Yharim on the Aquatic Scourge
The long-lost relative of The Desert Scourge, mutated by the sulphuric waters above the Abyss. Due to its adaptations to thrive in the sulphuric ocean and ample food supply, it is far less aggressive than its relatives. Those that venture to the sulphuric ocean should still exercise caution however, as this sea beast is still a carnivorous predator and will attack if provoked.
“I have to thank ye again for takin’ care of that sea serpent. Or was that another one…” - The Pirate on the Aquatic Scourge’s defeat
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“A titanic cyborg infected by a star-borne disease expelled from the belly of an ancient god. The destruction of this creature will not prevent the spread of the disease” - Tyrant Yharim on the death of Astrum Aureus
When the Astral virus first appeared in Terraria to warp the landscape around it, the site became a phenomenon of interest to Yharim himself. What destructive power, what force of chaos, could have made such drastic changes in a phage that it could assimilate nearly any material into something similar to its own molecular structure? Commissioning Draedon to research the pathogen, Yharim had him look for a method to take advantage of the virus’ virtually alchemic traits, to see if they could be harnessed to serve his needs. Of course, Draedon’s first step was to collect samples. To accomplish this objective, he decided to once more construct an automaton to do his bidding. Although his assistants were at his disposal, he decided against it, as the environment would clearly not be suitable for humans. However, his blunder was in underestimating the enslaving factor of the Astral virus. Even the circuit boards and metal of the great machine he had built to lumber across the infected landscape and bring back subjects, succumbed to the enslaving will of the pathogen. However, this was by no means a disappointment to Draedon. To him, this was a sign of great promise, showing that the extent of the virus’ power was not limited to organic beings. Finding no need for the great machine any longer, Draedon abandoned it. Now, it stays dormant in the Astral Biomes, only awaking to protect these infections from outside threats.
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“Though struck down from its place among the stars, its remnants have gathered strength, aiming to take its rightful place in the cosmos once more.” - Tyrant Yharim on Astrum Deus
Since ancient times, humans have looked to the skies with admiration and wonder; countless religions place their gods and their heavens amongst the skies. The sun was their god of warmth and life, banishing the darkness and offering hope. The moon was an idol amidst the night - a symbol of light, yet a beguiling one that beckoned with madness.
The stars, they once said, were no single gods. The wondrous stream of stars that stretched across the sky on cloudless nights - the source of those lights was a divine serpent of incomprehensible proportions. Its very nature was unimaginable, to the point that its presence in their reality could only be glimpsed through the countless stars its body birthed. As the collective faith of humanity gathered, it gave rise to the manifestation of their belief: a true god of the stars, soaring through the cosmos.
But even gods could be laid low. Conquering the land countless years after the god of the star's legend was born, the Jungle Tyrant looked to the skies and saw yet another realm to dominate - beginning by striking down Astrum Deus with his own Devourer of Gods. Empowered by those it had already consumed, the Devourer tore open the larger divine serpent’s gut and burrowed in, feasting on its body and killing it from the inside out before crushing its husk to pieces between its coils and scattering the remains to the cold void of space.
In ancient times, it was said that the god of the stars would descend upon the planet in its last days. Its body would infuse the earth with astral power and transform lesser lifeforms into its guardians. The power lingering in its corpse attracted worms to itself, empowering them so that they may grow - and Astrum Deus may one day return to the cosmos. Even when torn asunder, the god's corpse held power; just as the legend that gave rise to it claimed, those fragments of its body would one day fall to the planet and choose a successor to the god of the stars.
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“Be careful what you attack in the Crimson. You might just unveil a greater threat than what was there before.” - Amidias, the Sea king, on the Crimson
The Brain of Cthulhu is likely the most reformed remnant of Cthulhu, and makes an effort to destroy anyone who dares try to attack the Crimson with the intent of delaying the reformation of the Dark God Cthulhu.
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“A failure of twisted scientific rendition; it appears our faulted arrogance over life has shown once more in the results. Originally intended to be a clone of the Jungle Dragon, these were left to roam about the jungle, attacking anything in their path.” - Tyrant Yharim on the Dragonfollies
The Dragonfolly were born from a blunder of an experiment— one in which Yharim sought to replicate the might of his companion, the Jungle Dragon, for use in combat. The resulting folly are only a fraction of the size of their progenitor and entirely impossible to control. However, it is not the draconic magic within them that makes the folly a dilemma, but rather a side effect of the genetic process which created them. When introduced into a suitable environment such as the jungle, where the warmth and food greatly facilitate their reproductive process, they breed in excess, creating countless hatchlings. These young are known as draconic swarmlings, and fill the available territory, maturing quickly. There is a practical limit however as too many within a single area—such as the jungle—soon find competition, tearing each other to pieces in conflict.
“Your adventure focuses on the jungle it seems. Clearing out the infestation of Dragonfollies that have cropped up is an excellent idea.” Amidias, the Sea King, on what you should do next.
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“A crab and its mushrooms; a love story. It’s interesting how creatures can adapt given certain circumstances.” - Tyrant Yharim on Crabulon’s adaption to the Glowing Mushroom biome
Calamitas' legendary ocean incineration killed off countless creatures, boiling them alive or leaving them for dead in an inhospitable environment. The large but docile crabs that once roamed the ocean floor sought refuge underground; instinct guided them to the dank caves most resembling their former habitat...but it was simply not enough. The crabs perished in fields of luminescent mushrooms, their corpses becoming host to innumerable fungi. Only the barest scraps of meat remain in their parasite-ridden husks, compelled to move and feed even in death.
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“What used to be a majestic beast swimming through the water has now become a dried-up and gluttonous husk on a constant and voracious search for its next meal.” - Tyrant Yharim on the Desert Scourge
When the Sea King, Amidias, refused to partake in the forbidden ritual to awaken the Moon Lord from his slumber and imprisonment in the moon, the Jungle Tyrant, Yharim, had the Great Witch Calamitas evaporate all of the sea’s water with fire and brimstone. This event caused the Great Sea Worm, now known as the Desert Scourge, to go on a rampage. Deprived of its previous food source, it devoured all of the inhabitants of the now dried up sea kingdom. Now the Great Sea Worm has dried out and become a hollow shell of its former self, constantly seeking fresh meat for it to devour.
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“A hive of clustered microbial-infected flesh. I do not believe killing it will lessen the corruption here.” - Tyrant Yharim on the Hive Mind
The Hive Mind, the grotesque creature that lies in the depths of the Corruption, is actually a colony of creatures that travel together, combining their abilities to form a greater presence responsible for spreading and sustaining the Corruption. The Corruption is just a breeding ground to creatures like the Hive Mind to accelerate its spread.
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“Only a fool could be caught by this pitiful excuse for a hunter. Unfortunately, our world has no shortage of those.” - Tyrant Yharim on King Slime
Slimes have a natural tendency to be drawn towards one another. They are brainless creatures save for their deity, but occasionally can become notably powerful if enough amalgamate together. Even so, these slimes are often just as helpless as their lesser brethren as in the end, they are just amorphous blobs of organic matter. However, their hope to a higher life often lies in the rare ability to assimilate others into their body mass, and gain some of the victims abilities. This rare phenomenon is nothing like the full power absorption on the scale of the Devourer… but it is what allowed slimes to persist for so long. Sometimes, having become sufficiently large enough, they will simply wait in camouflage, hidden from view. Only a fool would fail to notice the large and shifting mass of dead leaves and earth, but unfortunately, our world has no shortage of those. Upon trapping a more powerful being than any one of them, the combined slimes overpower and surround their victim, learning from their mind and experiencing their power. This is the process by which “King” slimes, often found in distant areas, are created. They do not pose any great threat, save for the initial dolt to stumble into their trap, but they may catch you off guard with their attacks. It would be best to remain cautious if your equipment is not enough to combat a very, very simple enemy.
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“An odd pair of creatures; one seeking companionship and the other seeking sustenance. Perhaps two genetic misfits outcast from their homes that found comfort in assisting one another.” - Tyrant Yharim on the Leviathan and Anahita
Water is a mysterious and volatile thing. It holds vast destructive power yet also the gentle caress of silk. It can strike with the scorn of a beast, but trickles tranquil when allowed to take its own path over a course of time. It is whatever it chooses to be in the blink of an eye. And if there were an elemental to reflect this, none else would fit better its nature than the enigmatic deity given the name, Anahita of the Tides.
Anahita was among the elementals born to the world, along with the magic which they hold today. Five were worshipped in full throughout the time that passed, their status raised to true deities, and five inevitably felt the full brunt of the absence of faith, leaving them only empty shells. And Anahita, the first to rise, was perhaps the most broken. For past centuries, civilizations gave their unending respect to her, praying for her to bring generous rains and lessen storms. During these times she was amenable, known and loved by all in her graceful beauty. However even then in that golden age, human greed would bring about their own downfall. Unbeknownst to Anahita, scholars of an island in the middle of the ocean were tentatively researching methods to draw from the deities reserves of magic. She was not aware, as it was akin to an ant drinking from the lip of a pond. The scholars knew well of the wrath they would invoke should they anger her. They tread carefully the borders of her mana, and practiced in reserved manners. But of course, the greed in the hearts of humans never remains unseen for long. One sought to take the power for her own. One found methods to reverse the flow of magic, returning to Anahita a corrupt seed of a spell. A spell which would corrode the deity’s mind, making her forget the boon the humans had granted her. The scholar’s aim was to weaken the deities' lucidity, so as to take more and more of the magic for her own. This was conducted out of anger and resentment towards the people around her who so readily gave up so much to the goddess. The scholar planned to destroy Anahita and take the magic for herself. In her rash actions however, she underestimated the wrath of the goddess. In the scholar’s foolish mind, she had blindly ignored how much of the world around her relied upon the ocean’s bounty… and mercy.
A storm unlike any seen before. A typhoon which had the force to tear trees from the ground as if they were weeds. Waves which rivaled the heights of hills. Nearly all who inhabited the coastal city were killed within hours as the area of the land they inhabited was swallowed by the waters. Very few would manage to escape, being swept away in violent currents. All the while, weaving between the mounting howls of the wind and the cracking of the stone foundations, were the otherworldly wails of a goddess betrayed. The scholar had failed, of course. She was among the first killed, dashed violently against stones by the tidal surges. But she had not failed in destroying the goddess’ trust and mind. In a terrible spiral of hatred, the goddess lashed out towards those who she thought had betrayed her, and consequently weakened her own power as faith burned away like the fragile thing it is. And eventually, though winds whipped around her form in the rains, she was no longer the one controlling them. When Anahita’s rage was spent and her scarred mind cleared, the goddess’ heart tore at itself in sorrow and regret, as she fled to the depths broken beyond repair.
In the obsidian waters, the Leviathan’s amber bioluminescence marked her coming, and yet escape was hopeless, for at that point her jaws would have already been around the unfortunate animal. She was an alpha predator, the largest of her kind; and perhaps the last, for such growth was barely supported in the world’s oceans even then. So for many years, perhaps centuries, she drifted in sunless waters devouring prey as needed in search of a mate. It was a lonely, hopeless endeavor and a state of existence which did not befit the queen of the depths. So in the empty world in which time did not seem to pass, eventually the creature which once devoured and hunted to her heart’s content as a terrifying predator, became prey herself to weakness in her older age and unmanageable bulk. She resigned to resting upon the sediment of the ocean floor, and remained there for many years in a deep, nearly comatose slumber. Her hibernation gnawed away at the vast reserves of muscle and fat as she atrophied. In time, one would have even thought her to be a geological structure of the seabed, rather than a living creature. So for generations, through countless changes and shifts in the seabed, she continued to sleep a dreamless slumber, awaiting a change which would rouse her once more. Nothing would have stirred her besides, perhaps, a storm of unforeseen scale.
So, the Leviathan found herself waking to encounter Anahita of the Tides. As the elemental had plunged distraught into the depths of the ocean, she had felt a rumbling which could have been the Leviathan, or the earth responding to the storm, filling the water. Whichever it was, the vibrations comforted the distraught elemental. The ocean was still her home, no matter who believed or loved her and who didn’t. And the Leviathan, who herself had once given up life, felt sympathy and gratitude in her sluggish mind for her deliverer. Rising off the ocean floor in a cascade of silt and coral she joined the elemental and there, found a fellow soul who had been cast out of the world.
Nowadays, seamen often speak of the monsters they encountered on their journeys. The terrible, lashing Kraken, which dragged entire ships to the bottom of the sea. The gargantuan sea-serpent which, once it had a vessel within its coils, could splinter a warship like a matchbox. However fabricated or true these stories may have been, there is one beast of the water which nearly none ever spoke of. For those who witnessed it were much, much more likely to die.
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“The Dungeon is a dark place. None of us know what it is there for, however the ancient Eidolist Cultists used it for worship before Lord Yharim took it over.” - Amidias, the Sea king, on the dungeon
The Lunatic Cultist appears to be the leader of the Eidolist Cult, a group devoted to going through a transformation to Juvenile Eidolon Wyrms. However, none are able to transform into the Adult Eidolon Wyrms, as they are separate entities entirely. Try as some might, none can seem to truly understand why they go through this twisted transformation. This cult uses the Dungeon as a base of sorts, and have used it since it got overrun by the Polterghast, an enraged phantasmal beast made of the souls of those tortured there. They likely prefer it as their base over other places as it’s close to the Abyss, and in turn, closer to the great Eidolon Wyrms they seem to worship.
The Lunatic Cultist and the cultists protecting the Sigil were performing a ritual to keep the Moon Lord sealed, though if one were to interrupt the ritual, the Moon Lord himself may awaken in the event of an interruption. Tyrant Yharim attempted to summon the Moon Lord once, though the Lunatic Cultist was able to stop him before he was able to. However, the Cultists may not be able to stop another attempt to break the seal if one strong enough came by...
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“An abomination of commingled flesh, bone, and organ, infested primarily by blood-slurping worms. The chunks left over from the brain must have been absorbed by the crimson and reconstituted into it.” - Tyrant Yharim on the Perforators
Emerging from the fleshy carcass that is the crimson, the Perforator Hive trails its carrion-like protrusions across the ground in search of purity— and prey. Once a victim is detected, its spawn, massive tunneling worms which burrow violently into dirt and bloody tissue alike, rapidly encroach upon the unfortunate target to tear it to pieces.
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“I can faintly hear ghostly shrieks from the dungeon… and not ones I’m familiar with at all. Just what is going on in there?” - The Clothier on the dungeon after the Moon Lord has been killed
Over the course of Yharim's conquest over the world, countless people perished —whether killed by his forces, imprisoned and fed alive to his monsters, or struck down by Yharim himself, seldom died peacefully, and many cursed the Jungle Tyrant's name with their last breath. Some found peace in their afterlife; others lingered in the physical realm as phantoms, their hatred and anguish immutable even by death.
“The dungeon seems even more restless than usual, watch out for the powerful abominations stirring up in there.” - The Guide on the dungeon after the Moon Lord has been killed
The Dungeon served as Yharim's prison during his rule - and for the less fortunate, his torture and execution chambers. Attracted to the bloody echoes of pain and death, restless spirits flocked to the Dungeon in droves, possessing the corpses of the deceased and animating armors and weapons. Though easily dispatched at first, their numbers grew and grew - seemingly without end as the death toll of Yharim’s reign continued to rise. Deeming the Dungeon a waste of his men and resources, he withdrew them and left the dead to rot.
As spirits clinging to reality through little more than hatred, they held no loyalty to their fellow dead. Many swiftly turned on each other - souls devouring souls in an instinctual bid for power. As lesser souls grew swift and elusive, the first souls to feed continued to fight and consume one another until a legion took form, lacking even the concept of predator nor prey. Hatred for the one that first slew them and a desire for more that could never be satisfied; reduced from countless living men to mindless beasts, nothing but hatred drives the amalgamation.
“A creature born of hatred and anger, formed by countless human souls with all of their energy entirely devoted to consuming others. It seems a waste to have had such a potent source of power ravage mindlessly through these empty halls.” - Tyrant Yharim on the Polterghast’s death
Scraping fragments of metal into patchwork armor and animating broken chains with its essence to better hunt its lesser brethren, the Polterghast roams the depths of the Dungeon away from prying eyes. It continues to feed and fester in the darkness until it feels the power of the object of its collective hatred once more...or until it detects one whose power has begun approaching the point of indistinguishability.
There is also a creature of similar origins and form in this world, a beast in the depths of the great jungle known as Plantera. The most likely reason it ended up forming was due to the dragon of the tyrant razing much of the jungle to the ground, along with many of its inhabitants and those who dared to step foot in the jungle in the future. However, they did not suffer for long before they finally got the release of death, and due to this Plantera isn’t as terrifying and mighty as the Polterghast that lurks in the deepest reaches of the dungeon.
“Well done, you killed a plant. It was used as a vessel to house the spirits of those unfortunate enough to find their way down here. I wish you luck in dealing with the fallout.” - Tyrant Yharim on Plantera’s death
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“The ever-rejuvenating guardians of the profaned flame. Much like a phoenix from the ashes their deaths are simply a part of their life cycle.” - Tyrant Yharim
The Profaned Guardians, born of the profaned flame that is never allowed to be extinguished, are the eternal servants of their goddess, Providence. They are the physical manifestations of the souls of deceased worshipers that were promised eternal life in exchange for their protective services; they are undying, and will reform some time after their demise from the core of Providence herself. They guard to the death of both Providence and her artifacts.
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“The flesh golem was constructed using twisted necromancy during the time of my conquest to counter my unstoppable forces. Its creators were slaughtered by it moments after its conception.” - Tyrant Yharim on The Ravager
As the Jungle Tyrant's forces conquered the land, those who stood in his path used anything and everything they could to defeat or delay his endless onslaught. The strife of war pushes humans to the limit of their being, drawing both virtue and depravity to the surface in the darkest moments. Driven by desperation, it was in one such last stand that the honor of the dead was defiled: innumerable corpses of those already slain in battle against the Tyrant were reanimated as a single misshapen abomination.
It was not resurrection, but allowing that which had fallen still to move once more. Its body was an unbreakable rampart of bone still blazing with an inferno of black magic, and its weaponry sufficient to equip an army. Its mind lacked the capacity for any thought beyond slaughtering all in its sight - but that was all its creators desired in their darkest moment.
After their final gambit killed the men that had cornered them, the flesh golem’s makers were butchered in short order. With the durability of a living fortress and destructive power capable of waging a war all on its own, the Ravager was never captured or defeated. It continues to roam the land long after the disappearance of the Tyrant it was meant to combat, mindlessly following the one order built into it until the day it is destroyed.
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These are the lore of multiple biomes that exist in Calamity, along with some Vanilla ones included. They will be gone over in alphabetical order.
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“The twisted dreamscape, surrounded by unnatural pillars under a dark and hazy sky. Natural law has been upturned. What will you make of it?” - Tyrant Yharim on the Astral Infection
The Astral Infection is naturally generated by Noxus, the last-ditch superweapon created by the remaining Dark Gods to kill Xeroc, the last Light God. However, its creators were killed by Xeroc before it was able to hatch and fulfill its purpose of killing the Light God. However, the Dark One escaped before it was able to be killed by Xeroc through its innate magical cloaking. The Astral Infection is not just on Terraria; it is the wake of Noxus’ wandering through space, affecting all planets it passes, spreading the infection further.
The Astral Infection is able to turn the lifeforms of the planet it infected into vicious mockeries of what they once were: the hunters become the hunted, and the hunted become the hunters, their features grossly exaggerated. Natural law is overturned, perverted by merely trailing remnants of an eldritch being in rest.
“That star borne illness sits upon this land like a blister. Do even more vile forces of corruption exist in worlds beyond?” - The Dryad on the Astral Infection
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“Ah… this place. The scent of broken promises, pain, and eventual death is heavy in the air…” - Tyrant Yharim on the Brimstone Crags
Smoking slag, crackling flames, and charred stone are all that remain of the underworld’s once-grand civilization. Centuries ago, primitive societies found their way to these scorching caverns and discovered power in the form of an eternal red flame. They grew to worship the flame and its otherworldly might - and over the course of generations, founded a mighty empire of magic as they learned to harness the red flame for themselves.
Their hierarchy of privilege and magical prowess fostered great conflict. Those in power hoarded power, restricting the lower classes’ knowledge and suppressing research that threatened them. One clan revolted against the restrictive and greedy ways of the capitol - but like many others in the empire’s history, they were exiled. The capitol waited for them to return for revenge when those in power would crush them as an example. However, that day would never come. For those exiled, had come upon a curious revelation. Centuries spent living in the presence of the eternal flame had led to these mages to develop a natural connection to the brand of magic which utilized brimstone, rather than a forced link such as the rituals carried out by the capitol. Forced to stop relying on the eternal flame, they began to develop their own style of magic, drawing from darker forces. As they built upon their own strength and training, this clan soon grew to be as powerful as those who controlled the eternal flame. Yet, they had long decided against revenge, realizing that such an act would lower them to the level of those in hell. Decades passed, and generations passed down the gift of brimstone magic, from parent to child. In time, it would be this clan to sire the Witch, Calamitas.
The empire of hell grew weak over the course of those long years, splintered by infighting and draconian rule. It was the beginning of a once-grand nation’s collapse - but its final death was at the hands of a conflict long past. An older Calamitas descended to the lands her ancestors called home and initiated a ruthless massacre, butchering the poor and weak on the outskirts first and then working in. Every death was another hateful soul twisted to her cause - every corpse another revenant at her command - every life took, another worshipper deprived of the eternal flame at the empire’s heart. These souls were twisted into abominations which to this day, haunt the slag. When no others remained, she corroded the essence of the flame with corrupt magic and flayed its spirit to the bone. Without joy, Calamitas fulfilled her orders and unknowingly, avenged an ancient grudge long since lost to history. All that remained of that once-grand civilization was smoking slag, crackling flames, and charred stone.
The magma here is unlike the rest of the underworld, being more heavily inundated with the twisted, accursed souls left in Calamitas’ wake. The lava bubbles with hatred, warping, and trying to destroy all it touches, even more so than regular lava, unable to even be harnessed by Draedon himself for forging.
“The Brimstone Crags… Yharim despised that place, and did everything he could to raze it to the ground. It might explain a few things about him.” - Amidas, the Sea king, on Yharim ordering Calamitas to destroy the Brimstone Crags
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“Ah, the rotten and forever-deteriorating landscape of infected life, brought upon by a deadly microbe long ago. It is rumored that this microbe was created by a race predating the Terrarians.” - Tyrant Yharim
An ancient civilization now long extinct was rumored to have created a deadly bio-weapon that can infect nearly anything it comes across. The Corruption is the result of this bio-weapon taking hold over areas of Terraria’s surface and underground. Infected lifeforms are twisted into new, grotesque forms and exist in a near perpetual state of decay, vectors for the disease to spread. What is confirmed for certain is that the Corruption is another type of infection; the origins are not known and for all we know is a foreign-born microbe akin to the Astral Infection. The monstrosities that inhabit these infected lands act under a hive mind, and are capable of grouping up, becoming “Hive Minds”, a mass of many creatures join together into a single massive monster.
(THE FOLLOWING INFORMATION IS SPECULATION)
Some form of dark magic was likely used in the creation of the Corruption, as it is receptive to releases of dark power (it becomes stronger when the spirits of light and dark are released on the death of the Wall of Flesh).
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“This bloody hell, spawned from a formless mass of flesh that fell from the stars eons ago. It is now home to many hideous creatures, spawned from the pumping blood and lurching organs deep within.” - Tyrant Yharim
Folk mythos alleges that long ago, before the rise of mankind, there were innumerable beings of immense power, of order and of chaos. Some remnants of the primordial remain to this very day.
The land that erratically throbs with scattered heartbeats; the sanguine grasses and bloodied trees: the Crimson. What flora grows there is merely plant only in primitive similarity— the trees bleed when felled, the grasses quiver even without wind, and the roots lead deeper into the ground than they normally would.
The stones are warm, and as one descends, it merely grows warmer and damper. They expand and contract in unison as if to an imperceptible beat. Alone, this is hardly noticeable. Together, the cavernous expanses scattered below the Crimson’s surface pulse with quiet energy. From these warm, moist depths, beasts are born, made up of the same flesh as their birthplace.
Like any other living being, the Crimson grows. Fleshy grass folds over itself as it expands to cover the unaffected lands; crimstone slowly grows; the beasts borne from the flesh feed off of one another and are recycled back into the land. But nothing from the Crimson survives outside of it for long. Plants begin to decay, beasts begin to decompose, and the stones chill and cease to pulse.
If something were to empower this living land, these isolated components would be able to spread the Crimson, instead of rotting.
It is said that the Crimson is the remains of an ancient being torn asunder by another, that it is what is left of something beyond mortal comprehension and understanding. Perhaps there is truth in those words— what else could drive this strange land to continue onwards in its state of living death?
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“I remember the serene waves and the clear breeze. The bitterness of my youth has long since subsided, but it is far too late. I must never repeat a mistake like this again.” - Tyrant Yharim
A festering shore, where waves hiss upon lapping the crumbling stone of the beach. This is the Sulphur Sea, where the air stings your eyes, and each breath is a labor. Centuries ago, this was an ordinary coast, where the sun glimmered across blue waters, and fish danced in the light. A paradise, yet to Yharim, a simple tool; nothing more than a tomb for disposal of the dead who were of no importance. The beginning of Yharim’s rule was unimaginably harsh, far worse than those who came before him. His first action upon taking the throne was to enforce control upon much of the surrounding kingdoms, cities, and capitals. He succeeded in it all. Anyone who resisted further had their people massacred, or captured to serve under inhumane conditions, where they often collapsed, or ended their own lives to escape a worse fate.
Inevitably, the body count rose. This increased further until finally, given no other options to dispose of the bodies, Yharim turned to what is now the Sulphur Sea. At first, it was but a gradual flow of corpses, only those of which could not be contained within the dungeon’s crypts. This continued for quite some time until a threat soon arose from the spirits of the dead. A raging amalgamation of hatred and desires, which tore through any of the forces sent to dispose of the bodies into the dungeon; Yharim realized it would be unwise to feed more souls to the growing threat. Thus, he began to dispose of more corpses into the far ocean. The once crystal clear waters turned dark with the blood and entrails of many, choking the life out of its waters. This process destroyed the delicate and precious ecosystem. Only the hardiest and most desperate of the creatures in its bay clung onto their last hopes, and soon had adapted to the toxic environment.
“The Sulphurous Sea was created long ago, when Yharim’s dungeon could no longer hold as many corpses as it needed to. Many of the bodies were dumped into the ocean. This, along with severe pollution from the heydays of Draedon’s experiments have turned this paradise into a wasteland.” - Amidias, the Sea King, on the Sulphurous Sea
As the years passed, the waters suffered only more offenses, serving further despicable purposes, such as the containment of Silva, or the dumping grounds for the runoff of Draedon’s experiments. At last, Yharim’s rule as a Tyrant had been solidified, allowing no resistance, or his anger was pacified. The flow of corpses was stemmed, and the cruel practice had ended. However, the damage was done. The sea was irreparably ruined, though now, centuries later, the only traces of the assault on the ecosystem is the stained beach, and poisoned water. Dangerous and toxic creatures swim within its murky waters, devouring any life which would stray into their presence. This is the Sulphurous Sea, a story and example of the extent of the Tyrant’s tragic rule.
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“Preserved for millennia, a paradise for the living beings who sought shelter in prehistoric times…” - Draedon
Below the former ocean which Amidias’ kingdom had been within rests a buried, ancient sea. Oxygen is limited, as is nutrition, yet life finds a way to thrive, regardless of the circumstances. Oddly, the crystals that grow in this sea also grow within and atop the creatures living in it, seemingly providing them with the nutrition lacking within the waters. Peculiarly, there exists a giant clam with psychic powers, somehow able to command its lesser kin as some means of self-defense. It is implied that Amidias had escaped here when his kingdom went up in flames.
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Cut Lore is the lore that was once in Calamity’s story that has since been taken out. These are some of the bits I find interesting. If you’re interested in more stuff that was cut from Calamity, please check out YuH’s Document on cut content Calamity has here.
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A man with unparalleled strength and chivalry, rising against the oppression of a tyrant to reclaim his hometown - such was the tale of mighty Braelor. Commanding barely a few hundred men, Braelor staged an uprising in the midst of Yharim's territory and warded off attacks from every direction for years on end. On several occasions, Braelor sent his men to defend other locations while he faced down whole armies alone - and left the battlefield victorious.
Indeed, his prowess in battle was such that Yharim himself deemed it necessary to intervene. Descending on the wings of a dragon with a fearsome blade in hand, he struck out of the blue and tore through Braelor's defenses like a living force of nature. For all his power, Braelor found himself helpless before the tyrant's infernal wrath; if not for his men throwing themselves at Yharim and begging their commander to flee, Braelor would have been cut down effortlessly. The sacrifice of all his men earned him but a few mere seconds - but it was just barely enough to escape Yharim's grasp and flee into the mountains under cover of a furious blizzard. Feeling helpless and lost without his companions, Braelor found a new ally in his unexpected encounter with Statis - a renegade assassin who also sought the demise of the Jungle Tyrant, and had followed him to the mountains in secret. Braelor wandered the mountains for many years alongside his newfound companion, uncovering ancient relics of magic to aid his fated rematch with Yharim and discovering his own nature as a demigod. Eventually, they heard the news of Yharim's recent loss to the Profaned Guardians and his retreat to the Jungle...their shining moment of opportunity.
Aided by his new friend and the will of the Profaned God, Braelor returned with a newfound awareness of his power and carved a mighty path through the Jungle. Their crusade led them into the heart of the Jungle and onto the very steps of Yharim's Temple… but Braelor knew not of the mechanical terrors that had joined Yharim's ranks until it was far too late.
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(Thanks TimerFun!)
Flesh rots. Metal rusts. Stars grow dark. Whether over the course of a century or millennia, all things lose the ability to serve their purpose and become dust. Such is an immutable, inescapable law of reality. Thus, one who transcends such a limitation - one who is flawless and eternal, possessing none of the weakness called humanity - can only be considered God. Utterly unfettered and unparalleled. Surpassing the very nature of existence.
Sing your praises to Crabulon, The Perfect One.
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(Once again, thank you TimerFun!)
Yharim's prison for the magic of the ice castle, Cryogen, is a representation of Yharim's bitter cold hatred for the Archmage of Ice. When Yharim was young, he ventured from the jungle temple to the ancient ice temple where the archmage Permafrost resided. Yharim asked to learn from him in order to "peacefully" calm the denizens of the underworld. But the archmage saw through his ruse and viewed only bitter contempt within Yharim's heart and the fiery urge to annihilate the underworld obsidian towers and their inhabitants. When the archmage refused Yharim kindly took his leave, bowing to the archmage and returning to his home.
However, the archmage had not realized that Yharim had a contingency plan in place; Yharim had expertly placed magical runes hidden in a pocket dimension right outside the ice temple. Within minutes after Yharim took his leave, he activated the runes, causing the entire ice temple to be enveloped in pure darkness. Cryogen is what remains, a mindless frozen structure that was once trapped by Yharim due to its uncontrollable nature and powerful magic. Little does the Terrarian know that defeating the Wall of Flesh will rouse far more than mere spirits upon its defeat...
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Before Yharim's rise to power, other overlords ruled the Jungle - many of them even more paranoid and dictatorial than their successor would become. If they believed anyone to pose the slightest threat to their reign, they disposed of them with little provocation; by this line of thought, a certain family and clan of ninjas spanning many generations was wiped out on one fateful day.
Scouring the area after the deed, the overlords found one person they had overlooked: a baby that posed no threat, yet still bore the blood of powerful warriors. To exploit the child's great potential, they took him in and raised him - isolated from society, immersed in the killing arts from childhood. Statis grew up as little more than a tool that brought silent, untraceable death.
When Yharim overthrew the old rulers, Statis appeared before the new Jungle Tyrant and declared his fealty...but, indoctrinated since infancy, he still saw the previous overlords as his masters. Statis bided his time and waited, fulfilling the missions given to him - and always watching for his chance to personally assassinate Yharim. His opportunity seemed to present itself; Yharim left his fortress to quell a rebellion that was hindering his men. Statis stalked him to the mountains - and lost his target for the first time as a blizzard struck, unable to match the speed of his quarry’s dragon. Lost amidst the glacial peaks, Statis instead found himself face to face with Braelor - the very same rebel that Yharim was hunting.
Before Statis knew it, he had not only spent several years in the mountains but found the first person he could truly call a friend. Eventually, the time for hiding came to an end; seeing their opportunity, Statis returned alongside Braelor to strike against the Tyrant - not knowing what devastating forces Yharim had recruited in their absence. Even as his armor was smashed to uselessness and his body crippled in the darkness of the Jungle Temple, Statis never knew he was destroyed by the same ethereal assassin that his own clan's arts were derived from.
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In ancient times long past, the Lihzahrds were a mobile tribe - no grand temple housing countless traps and defenses, no idol yet worshiped. They roamed the Jungle, hunting wildlife and repelling intruders upon their territory with the threat of lethal force. However, the expansion of humans and the discovery of magic pushed the Lihzahrds back, forcing them to retreat to the Underground Jungle.
In order to ease their own life, the tribe crafted a golem from the flesh and blood of humans that perished in their land. Its purpose was excavation, utilizing colossal drills to hollow out caves and gather underground materials far more efficiently than its masters could on their own.
However, crafted using only the barest grasp of magic and such transient materials as the human body and mind, what little sentience the flesh golem held constantly teetered on the edge of a berserk rampage. A steady supply of humans was needed to keep it under control - something the Lihzahrd tribe couldn't provide forever.
The miracle they found could only be called providence. Deep underground, nearly breaching the border of the planet's mantle, the flesh golem uncovered an unknown creature's body - hewn from rock, yet once animated by a living soul and still burning with unholy energy. In the mysterious corpse, they discovered the means to craft an utterly loyal automaton as well as the glory of the Profaned God.
In a huge underground space carved out by the flesh golem, the Lihzahrds built a temple in worship of their new idol. Its final mission complete, the tribe shut down the organic machine and abandoned it to quietly rot for countless years... until the day the Jungle Tyrant arrived to seize the temple from the rulers before him. Yharim easily subdued the flesh golem when it was reactivated, but he also saw potential in the crazed machine. Converting its drills into devastating airborne rockets and outfitting it with even more weaponry, the ancient automaton received the name of Ravager and was added to Yharim's forces - not as a soldier, but a wild killing machine that would decimate anything around it whenever released.
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There used to be 3 Future Bosses in the mod: the Ancient Doomsayer, The Devourer of Universes, and Dragon God, Yharon. The Future Bosses were inspired by the Dream Bosses from the game Hollow Knight, and were what some of the bosses would have become if the Terrarian never came around.
Dragon God, Yharon, is Jungle Dragon, Yharon transformed into a true Phoenix, through some unknown process. Very little is known about him lore wise.
The Devourer of Universes is a power-lusted Devourer of Gods, and gained extreme amounts of power through finally consuming Providence, the Profaned Goddess. Afterwards, wanting a further amount of power, he took to eating his sentinels, one by one. The power of this creature is enough to rival the Jungle Dragon himself.
The Ancient Doomsayer is the Lunatic Cultist, and he has managed to absorb nearly all of the Moon Lord’s power through a ritual. Who knows if this power was willfully given to him, or if it was taken by force.
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Goozma is what would be created if all of the slime in the world were to join together as a single entity, in a similar fashion to Slime God or King Slime but on a far wider scale. It would become so powerful that even Tyrant Yharim’s power would pale in comparison to it (though now if the concept existed it would be a DoG level threat), and it would possibly grow enough to devour the entire world. This used to be what Noxus was, however change came and Goozma’s concept was scrapped, and replaced with Noxus, though it took awhile for the name to change. Fun fact: Fabsol came up with the name Goozma while he was drunk, and it is a combination of the words Goo and Oozma.
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Draedon actually has a decent bit of cut lore, such as Andromeda and how he was going to be the last boss.
Andromeda was another one of Draedon’s many mechanical creations, only this one was the size of a planet. It was made to go through planets to search for metals and ore and even destroy them in some cases, and was planned to be a post-Yharim superboss on par with Noxus.
Draedon used to be the last boss, and there was very little reason behind this. He apparently used to be some sort of god and more than Yharim’s scientist, weaponsmith and armorsmith. Not too much info has ever been given on it, however.
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Note: The Siren and The Leviathan has new lore that is being worked on currently, and all that we know so far is that The Sirens new name is Anahita, she is fishlike but not a fish, she has a halberd and is designed by Nitro, Vaik, and Inanis.
The Siren and Leviathan used to have a lot of lore, however all of this got cut when the one who made it left the calamity developer team, and they took a majority of their concepts and the like with them. Anyways, onto the lore.
The beast we call the Leviathan has not always been the behemoth we know it as now. Once an armored angler of unknown origins, she spent much of her juvenile life in the depths of the oceans, preying upon any unfortunate enough to stray into her territory. It was clear, however, that she was no simple fish. Constantly surrounded by an entourage of waiting males, the Leviathan was likely an alpha female, and perhaps the very last of her kind. Any attempts by researchers to delve deeper into her habits however, had proven risky and were thus hardly undertaken, as there was little to be gained from such an expedition. And so, she lived a wanton life, devouring to her heart’s content, finding little to oppose her. However, there would come a day when eventually, a creature would escape her steely jaws. Like a lantern in a deep night, a distant light flitted through the darkness. However foolish it was to draw attention to oneself in that ebony pit, it seemed that the creature was ignorant of dangers, or foolishly confident. Lying in patient wait, the Leviathan hungrily eyed the dancing light. And her chance soon came. With a roar and a surge of water, which likely raised turbulence even on the surface above, she charged with her jaws agape to swallow the creature whole, and yet… In the settling debris thrown up from her attack, the light flickered in the darkness, clearly shocked, but only for a second, as it soon departed, having learned of the dangers of the deep. The Leviathan herself lay stunned, for none had escaped so frivolously from her maw before.
However, decades passed, and this singular incident soon faded from the Leviathan’s memory. She continued to feast and grow, becoming larger and larger, until at one point, it became clear that her bulk would no longer allow her to hunt as efficiently as she had done before. In a cruel twist, the once terror of the deep became immobile, and began to starve, no longer having the ability to sustain her massive physical form. She came to a rest upon the muddy seabed, hardly able to rise from her position. Had anyone come across her at that point, they might have mistaken her gargantuan form resting upon the sea bed as a geological structure, so encrusted in barnacles and other ocean flotsam from age was she. And as the Leviathan began to close its eyes perhaps for the final time, in its dimming vision, it saw a dancing light. The light flitted through the obsidian waters, like a lantern in a deep night. And the memory from all those years resurfaced. Angry and desperate, the Leviathan somehow found the energy to pull its massive form from the seabed, straining, roaring weakly, to- in its final moments- vanquish the one creature which might have reason or cause to look down on the proud, yet crippled predator. And crippled she was. Unable to keep going, she collapsed once more to the sea bed in a massive cloud of silt.In these moments, the light came closer, wary, yet still innocently curious. The Leviathan’s massive eye shifted while it lay on the bottom, watching the light. It turned out to be a vaguely female humanoid, though not different from a typical fish in its lower body. It gave a start at noticing that it was watched, and waved a hand in greeting. Of course, this meant nothing to the Leviathan, who rolled her eye back, and closed her eyelids. She would now rather be left to die in peace. Yet after a period of time, unmeasured from the Leviathan’s perspective as she had long since lost track of such trivial things, she felt something brushing her scarred snout. Once again opening her eyes, she saw the creature which had visited her before. From her arms, a massive trawler’s net trailed behind her, filled with fish and attached to drowned fishermen, who had likely once called that net their own. The creature smiled upon seeing that the Leviathan had noticed her. She swam into the Leviathan’s slack jaws, fearless of her situation, and began to empty the net. However, even as the Leviathan gradually regained her former strength, she lay still, allowing the creature to roam unimpeded around her. It was now clear that this creature had shown nothing but good intent to her. It had an interest in the Leviathan. So when the creature began to beckon for the Leviathan to move once more, to follow her to the surface, it took only a moment of hesitation for the Leviathan to ascend, going slowly to acclimatize to the change in pressure.
Nearer to the surface, though no beasts of the size she used to devour lived there, she found an abundance of food. The Siren, for that was what the creature was, lured unsuspecting sailors to the Leviathan’s position, acting as a lure in exchange for the company and safety of the massive beast. The Siren's voice was both melodious and alluring, and her ability to cloud the skies and obstruct vision created a fantastical illusion in which entire fleets of boats would disappear, never to be seen again. Under the Siren's care and companionship, the Leviathan eventually regained her strength. The ancient beast would spawn legends aplenty, of unknown noises in the mists, and colossal shapes moving on the horizon. However, for the most part, the Leviathan lay dormant in shallow waters, resting, in order to conserve her strength. This was her lifestyle now, and while it may not have suited the former terror of the deep, it did not mean she was a pacified beast. If any were to disturb its slumber, or fall for the Siren’s illusions, she would awaken with her former grandeur, to devour the one who had strayed too far from the shore.
The mysterious creature that had found and aided the old Leviathan had a long and troubled story of her own.
She was born into a floating city built by a civilization that worshipped a living siren goddess. Only the high caste sirens hand-picked by the goddess were allowed to reproduce, and their children were given to the other sirens to foster. One particularly weak newborn was handed over to a troublesome siren who lived on the fringes of the city. The city's cruel laws often led to long periods of exile as punishment for insubordination or other troubles, and the elites believed raising a child could help reform this siren's spirit.
The outcast siren accepted the feeble child and gave her the name Nahlyn. Growing up outside of the city's norms, Nahlyn experienced a very unusual childhood compared to a typical siren. After learning of the twisted law of her species and the experiences of her own parent, Nahlyn grew to despise the group, beginning to consider it a "cult". The elite of the city determined that Nahlyn's upbringing and her attitude were unacceptable; Nahlyn was only fourteen when she returned home to find two zealots standing over the crumpled corpse of her mother. They bound her and brought her back to the city for cult indoctrination, gagging her when she screamed and rebelled. Nahlyn spent the next several years serving the siren cult, feigning obedience and climbing the ranks in the hopes that one day she could escape her waking nightmare. She would prepare for years, to grasp her chance.
That chance would soon come, disguised as a catastrophe. The city was prone to the whims of the ocean currents, and one day, drifted near the mouth of a massive abyss. Knowing full well the dangers of the deep, the worshippers immediately took action, closing off many of their open streets, and propelling their home further from the mouth of the cave. However, it was too late. Rising from the darkness, a massive beast- a true leviathan- roared in displeasure. It would take all they had to even escape alive from its jaws. Nahlyn would take advantage of this. Earlier that day, she had been entrusted with guard duty in the inner temple by the elites who had assumed her indoctrination was successful. It had been her chance to steal a powerful weapon and make an escape. This was made only easier by the Leviathan’s rage. As massive tremors rumbled through the halls, most of the surrounding guards barked orders in confusion, and many left to help defend the walls. In seconds, she had been left alone in her area to guard the inner sanctum. Only those who were in possession of the two key parts to the sacred weapon were left behind, panicked, and hopelessly frightened. Nahlyn, however, had nothing to lose compared to those who had lived decadent and opulent lifestyles within the temple complex. In a flash, she had slammed her spear into the back of one’s helmet, knocking them unconscious, and, turning the corner, buried it into the gut of the other, pinning them to the stone. Still gritting her teeth in determination, she tore the key pieces from their necks, even as the rubble tumbled from the ceiling above, hurriedly assembled them, opening the door to the mythical trident, Atlantis.
Without hesitation, she grasped the weapon in her hands, snapping it from its pedestal. A surge of power flowed through her, as she felt the Siren’s powerful affinity with water coursing through her body. She heard shouts from outside. Another guard, probably having also abandoned their post, rushed inside. Without hesitation, she spun the trident so its prongs pointed towards the unfortunate guard. The pressure surrounding her dropped with a lurch, and the sound of shrieking metal mixed with screams filled the air, as the guard’s armor collapsed in on itself. Turning her back on the bloody scene, she willed the water within the chamber to burst the temple walls like an eggshell. Finally, she was free. Amidst the chaos of the city, as the Leviathan tore through its walls, and the sudden realization that they had been betrayed, Nahlyn shot upwards, aiming to reach the sun of the world above, and the freedom it represented to her. Later on, she would have time to stop, and remembering the creature who had allowed her escape, she vowed that if ever the Leviathan would need aid, she would assist it in any way she could.
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