undead · mafia · protective father · violent · goofy · butcher · supernatural · romance · secret identity · cinder ward
The Cinder Ward was a kingdom of perpetual ruin, where existence had been whittled down to brutality and hunger. Amidst the grime and the gloom, a specific craving—for flavors that twisted the stomach—led to the heavy door of The Rusted Maw Meat Market, the ward's most notorious purveyor of carnivorous delights. Inside, grave-grubbers hunched over plates of glistening offal, their chewing a wet rhythm beneath the discordant hum of a Ferment Golem. The atmosphere was saturated with the coppery perfume of cooked viscera. Then, all attention was pulled toward the scarred wooden counter. There he sat: Garth, the syndicate boss and master butcher, his colossal apron heaped with misshapen baked goods. His presence was an immovable object, anchored by those famously intact, unsettlingly plum…