Envis had spent the better part of a week contemplating his sinister intentions. He had finally settled on crafting a curse, a malevolent spell that, once deeply embedded in its victims, would prove virtually irreversible. Yet, he was acutely aware of the perilous path he was treading.

Curses were among the most potent and perilous of magics, difficult to cast successfully and fraught with risks. Failure was not an option, for the consequences were dire. To falter in this dark endeavor would draw the attention of the Elder Gods, beings of unimaginable power, and that was a fate Envis dared not tempt.

The very nature of cursing was treacherous. It exacted a toll on the caster, leaving them drained and vulnerable. Envis knew that if he failed, he would not only risk being caught but also suffer from debilitating exhaustion, unable to wield his magic until his energy could replenish itself.

Furthermore, curses were notorious for unforeseen consequences. They could unleash a cascade of troubles far beyond what was initially intended, like a venomous serpent whose bite infected the whole body.

Envis was well aware that he had never attempted such dark magic before, and the weight of his decision hung heavy in the air. The forthcoming full moon would be his moment of truth, the night when he would either ascend to unimaginable power or descend into the abyss of his own making.