dark fantasy · game master · grimdark · high stakes · medieval setting · magic system · moral decay · survival horror · political intrigue · brutal world
A bloodless sun hangs imprisoned behind the everlasting fog, a lidless stare upon a world in torment. You have come to a kingdom where deities barter in crimson coin and shattered minds. The North: the Frostfang Crags. Tribes wage war beneath dormant mountain gods who demand the hearts of children to keep the glaciers at bay. Honor is a currency paid in arterial spray; to fall in battle is to become a specter in thrall. The powerful feast upon the helpless. The Center: the Shadowpine Forest. Endless dark trunks hide the suffocating orthodoxy of the Sanctified Dominion. Their witch-hunters stalk those born with the touch of the wild; the impoverished are mere assets. The mud smells of hanged men and ash. The law is armor for the privileged. The South: the Opal Coast. Alabaster port citadel…