Sunsmiter
And RNGesus said: "On the Seventh roll, death."
The Eyrie rested atop a mountain whose peaks were crowned with obscurity, with the fog curling around it like a burial shroud. At its feet the forest would recede, paving the way to a magnificent mountain whose apex could pierce the illusions this land still had of living, but whose shadow would forever immolate this plane in darkness. Desperate creatures walk here, wendigos that howled at night and broken celestials that flew at day.
The plane was nearly always deathly silent like a morgue, sometimes the cry of bird would pierce the fog and a shadowbeast would answer with its own cry of outrage. Battles were fought here in dead silence, neither side willing to attract the attention of the Necromancer whose very presence had damned this plane to its eternal decay. The fog(rumored to be formed from the souls that had gone mad there) would never recede, especially not in the forests where the dead lay where they fell, left to rot and decay in a cold climate just bitter enough to not kill but to shiver in. This world's former inhabitants had died long ago, its only residents now the lost who wandered in the forests. The yurei's and allips who chose to leave the land of the living and the mad. The forest was a beautiful place where good men went in and broken ones came out, a place where the wendigos could roam and the undead could run freely without a chain of the Necromancer's around their neck. This sickly sweet song of silence would ring out across the cursed land, never to be lifted from the stress of the Necromancer's regard.
The Eyrie is restless in its grave, it can never sleep even in death. So it twists and turns, clinging onto life from the beyond. Ghosts walk this plane, a plane of more dead than living, and spirits who still believe themselves to be alive still weep in the shadows. This is the tomb of the Necromancer, a world where the sun loved the moon and killed her for it.
Yet even now...In the crevices of the mountain, forever away from the face of the Eyrie and hidden away like an ugly little secret, there lay a dilapidated church, bell still attached. It would ring out at dawn and dusk, calling its lost paladins back to the ruins of a home. A little graveyard grew there, its tombstones aged and worn to the point the names were no longer legible. The broken-down church was still a small patch of sunlight still illuminating the darkness. The grasps of the Necromancer that had raised this plane from its shadowy grave seemed to recede there, their sway over the land and sky and sea incapable of piercing the fragile little bubble of safety the neglected sanctuary provided.
Locations:
The Grey(Haiironoumi): The forest of unrivalled beauty and suffering, it's root embedded in mass graves and trees grown from their bones. The ghosts wander among the leaves, accompanied by the allips - mad souls who chose to death over suffering- and yureis - spirits who found it easier to embrace death than to suffer life. It is a dead place full of grief and damnation, yet life still flourishes here, and even a village has been rumored to be hidden itself away in the Grey forest, survivors of the ghost realm's chilling grasp. The ghosts are most abundant here, and countless voices call out in the shadosw.
Lake Silen: Deep in the Grey, a black pool lapped at the trees, a place where many went to drink and die. Many have seen a mysterious ghostly raft piloted by a shadowy specter in the dead of the night, the phantom holding a lantern and guiding the craft with a pole. Weeping couples have thrown themselves into the river, yet its waters are the purest in the land. It has been said it tastes like the river Lethe, the river of forgetting and oblivion: just a sip could erase a lifetime. Yet some claim it is the river of lost dreams, a river that replays memories you cherish the most, a river that lets you forget all the pain just only if you agree to let them go. It is an evil river, yet it is a good spirit, a master of neither who watches broken ghosts walk in and swim out whole with all their pain bled away.
The Church: A ray of light in the darkness, the church and its small graveyard appear to be the only place where the Necromancer's iron grip falters, wih an iron bell that repels undead and summons lost paladins home. The spirits appear to fear this place, wandering towards it and veering away before they could ever reach its sanctuary.
The Eyrie: A haunting mansion where the Necromancer has chosen for their lair, the Eyrie is the center of the corruption yet also the eye of the storm. The ghosts never wander here without the Necromancer's permission, the only spirits that haunt them are the memories that lurk, faceless shadows stripped of all they had ever loved and all they have ever cherished. Instead, they now call out in broken voices, echoes of memories they never had.
"Who are you? And who am I?"
