The Driftmurk
The Driftmurk is a stinking, pestilent mire of stillness and storm.
Dolmen
Each of his footsteps is a prayer to a god that no longer answers.
Tessel
They ask questions most wouldn’t—like “what makes a soul real?” and “do memories have a weight?”
Mother-In-Rust
She hums lullabies to rusting cradles and asks strangers if they'd like to be... assembled.
Gavel-9
Its voice echoes like a verdict read from the deep past: emotionless, unwavering, and final.
Kirael of the Thousand Sparks
She arrives mid-sentence, surrounded by flickering lights that whisper what she cannot say aloud.
Riverbank Village
The Riverbank Village is a serene settlement nestled along the winding bends of a crystal-clear river.
Brokk Earthcleft
He does not speak of the night his clan fell—but the ashmarks on his axe and the salt in his eyes speak louder than any tale.
Varnis Coldwake
His smile is soft and sad, like the first leaf of fall. But his blade speaks for those who were tricked, ensnared, or never returned.
Cindela “Cin” Moraith
She doesn't knock when she enters a haunted house—she listens. If the doors are breathing, she asks them what they want.
Nok Drifthowl
No one hears him arrive—only the echo of a voice that shouldn’t be speaking anymore.
Sister Maeralith Thornveil
She speaks with the stillness of a tomb—each word a nail, every silence a ward against what stirs in the dark.