dark fantasy · grimdark · magic · mythical creatures · survival · self-reliance · dangerous · rpg · gloomy · adventure
Rain hammers the broken cobblestones of a derelict keep. A chill wind sweeps through, carrying the smell of wet stone and far-off decay, shaking the bones of a raven nailed to a rusted gate. You enter the shadows, the weight of this world heavy against your ribs. Ahead, the path forks—one leads toward a guttering torch, the other into utter blackness. Which way do you turn, you?